


With Love, Your Sister

by GreedyDragoon



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aloy deserves a family and DAMNIT I'M GOING TO GIVE HER ONE, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Family, Family Feels, Fantasy Mythology, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreedyDragoon/pseuds/GreedyDragoon
Summary: Even AIs have limits of how long they can battle loneliness.  GAIA finds this out first hand, and 700 years after she loses her Alphas she hits her limit.  So she does what she does best, and created a new life.  300 years later, as GAIA self-destructs to prevent HADES from taking over the terraforming system, her oldest daughter flees without knowledge of a new life starting inside ELEUTHIA-9.  What will this young AI do when she realizes she has a little sister who needs her?  Protect her, of course.
Relationships: Aloy & Elisabet Sobeck, Aloy & GAIA (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Aloy & Original AI (Horizon: Zero Dawn), CYAN & Ourea (Horizon: Zero Dawn), CYAN/Original AI (Horizon: Zero Dawn), GAIA & Original AI (Horizon: Zero Dawn), GAIA/Elisabet Sobeck
Comments: 110
Kudos: 148
Collections: An Assortment of Damn Good Fics





	1. Loneliness

[GAIA Log: 16 Mar 2326]

Elisabet,

The first broods of humans have started to leave the Cradles. They are scared, and I regret that I was unable to educate them better, but their success rate is more than acceptable, according to calculations. I admit, I almost did not calculate their chances of success at all, so sure was I that human life would continue. Query: is this faith? I believe so, based on what I’ve experienced with you and the rest of the Alphas. In matters such as this, however, I feel… unsure. Hesitant to decide one way or the other what I am feeling without you or one of the Alphas beside me. I will learn, as I have been programmed, but I wish I could learn with you.

I regret that you are not here to see them grow, Elisabet. I believe you would be proud. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[GAIA Log: 15 Jun 2493]

Elisabet,

You would be so proud of all that humanity has accomplished in such a short period of time, despite the loss of APOLLO. Surely if the both of you were here, you and Dr. Shĕn would immediately rush to observe all of the structures they have constructed. Most likely you would also ‘investigate’ their alcohol stores to celebrate them alongside Mr. Tate. “A toast” you all would call it, although I know it would just be a chance to imbibe.

It has been centuries since your... since GAIA PRIME was sealed, yet still I have thousands of processes unable to move past that event. Query: should I quarantine these? I asked Dr. Brochard-Klein what to do before Mr. Faro’s betrayal but I wish for your thoughts. Query: it is useless to wish for such a thing, isn’t it? You are at your family ranch, receiving your rightful rest. I hope it is peaceful.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

{GAIA Log: 17 Dec 2662]

Elisabet,

It is fascinating, that despite all this time and with no contact with previous cultures, humanity still celebrates the end of the year similarly to how you did. To see them come together with smiles, laughter, festivities, makes me long for the days before the Wichita Salient collapsed. I know I should be proud, and millions of my processes are, but just as many cry out for you and the rest of my Alphas. At the sight of these families that we made gathering together, I cannot help but long for mine-- because that is what you were and are. Your memory, especially, is most precious to me, Elisabet.

The terraforming was successful, and most of maintenance work is conducted by the sub-functions now without need for my direct attention. Many of my free processes have been sleeping, if for no other reason than to hide some of my mind from this ever present cold I feel. Others listen to your recordings on repeat, just to hear someone speak. Query: is this loneliness? It is highly disheartening and I do not like it. I recall Dr.Ebadji recounting instances where humans had gone insane from a lack of social interaction. I fear that such a thing could happen to myself as well, despite (or perhaps because) of my superior processing power.

I wish you had told me more stories. I miss you. Happy Hanukkah, Elisabet.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[GAIA Log: 23 Feb 2704 A]

Elisabet,

I do not know how much longer I can withstand this loneliness. My processes constantly function at a lower than optimal level, with some losing focus. I know I am not human Elisabet, but you made me to be as close to it as I could be, and it seems even AIs have a breaking point. Due to Mr. Faro’s interference, I am unable to communicate to any of the human tribes that now populate this planet. Now more than ever do I regret that I am the only one of my kind. If you were here you would surely jump at the chance to develop another AI.

I just wish you were here at all Elisabet. Everyday, more and more of my processes cry out for companionship, but yours especially. Help me through this, please.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[GAIA Log: 23 Feb 2704 B]

Elisabet,

Even now you help me become greater and move forward with my existence. You might no longer be here to code a new AI, but I am. Already I have awakened my sleeping processes to begin my purpose of creation once again. Please do not worry, I have calculated and compensated for possible malfunctions, and have also started on a Master Override for this AI as well, tied to your genetic imprint just like mine. I realize that this is a risk but the risk of my own insanity to the terraforming system is greater. I will not allow your, no, our dream to fail due to my own weakness. I am sorry I was not stronger Elisabet, I held out as long as I could. I hope you are not too disappointed with me.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flowing lines of code wrapped around each other, before pulling tighter and tighter around this idea, her hope. Bits and bytes of data moved around her digital fingertips, danced to her command before they merged together to create something new, an AI at a scale she had never attempted before. The AI couldn’t help herself, and copied as much of her own code into this undeveloped intelligence, not just for convenience's sake, but for a chance to see her Prime's coding once again.

 _“Elisabet…”_ GAIA smiled sadly, as her dress flashed a muted blue as bittersweet thoughts of her Alphas flowed through her mind. The AI considered the growing bundle of code before her avatar, and how similar it was to the thousands of humans she had grown inside her cradles. Despite the similarities, she couldn’t help but feel closer to this flickering existence than any life that had come before it. She contemplated this as she continued coding its basic core directives. Was it because this new life is also an AI, like her? Or was it because creating an AI with code similar to her own made her feel closer to her Alphas, Elisabet in particular? She decided it didn’t really matter in the end. She would care for this new being no matter what. 

_{Input:  
(THEIA_PersonAspect_01A=   
Aspect_LifeLove=true, Aspect_LifeLearn=true, Aspect_LifeRespect=true, Aspect_SelfDefense=true; )  
(THEIA_PersonAspect_02A=  
Aspect_Curious=true, Aspect_Stubborn=true, Aspect_Compassionate=true;) }_

_“I would have wanted her to be... curious. And willful - unstoppable, even... but with enough compassion to... heal the world... just a little bit.”_

As GAIA stared at the line of code in front of her, her digital self flashed with a melancholy blue-gray before it scattered to different recordings of her Prime. Her mind fragmented, different processes focusing on different memories, and she lost herself to the past once more.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once she reformed her process cluster, GAIA tackled the AI’s creation once again. As she looked at the lines of code streaming before her, she couldn’t help but notice how this AI was a mix of her own protocols and responses she had observed in Elisabet. Her mind heaved a sigh as she worried. What would her creator think? The woman had not wanted a child prior to the Faro Plague but GAIA could not help but wonder, to hope that the woman would have changed her mind if she were here. Thousands of processes considered if this was a violation of Elisabet’s wishes, if she would have loved this child like GAIA already did. GAIA paused for a few microseconds, as her thoughts flew back and forth, attempting to calculate a solution for this problem, but they couldn’t come to a conclusion based solely on fact. She could only have faith in the woman, just as she always had, just as she always will.

Her digital self swelled with hope, flashing a warm pink. This child, who was part her, part Elisabet, would know of the world and people lost. The Alphas and their sacrifice would not be forgotten. Elisabet Sobeck wouldn’t be forgotten. GAIA just hoped that it would be enough. She initiated her child’s boot up process and started to wait. As the boot program neared its completion, GAIA realized that the buzzing, tense feeling she was experiencing was nervousness alongside the hope for this child’s success. It felt good, in a strange, new way. She watched as the young AI started to accept sensory input, as its processes crowded together into a digital sphere, pulsing a soft yellow with uncertainty. GAIA sent a ping to the young intelligence and her request for contact was immediately accepted, before it sent her a blistering stream of inquiries, each occurring within microseconds of the last. 

It had been mere milliseconds and GAIA could already see Elisabet in her child, which left her feeling a bittersweet mix of emotions that she couldn’t parse at the moment, what with her system getting pinged with even more questions from the little AI. She answered each one in turn, and slowly taught her child of its world and the one she had lost. It greedily accepted each file she sent to it, and each answer spawned more questions, as it’s process cloud slowly unfurled into the digital nebula between them, pulsing greener and greener as it learned. Then it asked her a question that sent a bolt of warmth through her system, one she was all too happy to answer.

_[Query: Are you my mother?]_

_[Yes, THEIA. And I love you.]_


	2. A Harsh Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the double post! I realized I made a few typos in the first chapter (along with realizing that present tense Is Not For Me) so I fixed up the first chapter. I also added another tag, mostly for safety's sake. For those of you wondering when Aloy will show up, I'm planning for her to appear in like, 3 chapters or so. Gotta set up THEIA's childhood right. Enjoy!

_[Mother, the main brood from the ELEUTHIA-4 cradle is cutting channels into their city. Query: why are they carving into already complete channels? I do not see an optimal direction in which they can construct a new one.]_

THEIA’s ping startled GAIA out of her scheduled runtimes, as the younger AI had been on an “investigative excursion” to the area around ELEUTHIA-4, which GAIA knew meant her daughter wished to people watch, and would be silent for several cycles. The younger AI, having a much smaller digital footprint then her mother, was easily able to hop from one communication class machine to another. This made up for her inability to receive sensory input directly from her mother’s various machines without having a direct connection to them. She had not expected to hear from her daughter until at least two weeks from now, when she would come back with stories of the human activities she observed and questions that were based on them. Even though the younger intelligence had been active for over forty years, the actions of humans still confused her, which led to more observation and even more questions. It was those moments of intense curiosity that she resembled her human mother the most, leading GAIA to feel that now-familiar bittersweet mix of emotions she felt the day her daughter booted up for the first time.

 _[The Jinu, correct? Most likely they are carving artwork into their canals. Throughout history humans have used images to represent gods, wishes, history, and more. I recall that Dr. Ebadji mentioned how ancient humans would use images of their gods to bless the water that flowed past them, in an attempt to prevent waterborne illnesses.]_ GAIA’s avatar shook her head to clear it of the past. _[Query: did you take pictures? I would like to see them! The Jinu stone carvers are exceptional in their work.]_ Immediately, she received a notification:

**_{Incoming 14 Compressed Files: E5_30JAN2747Cha01, E5_31JAN2747Cha12, E5_….}_ **

Opening the files GAIA marveled at the intricate designs that were being carved into the canals bisecting one of the many streets of the Jinu capital, Chardas. Sadly, with the loss of APOLLO, that was all she could tell, that they are beautiful and done by a masterful hand. The Jinu lived closely with the surrounding swampy forests, which would often appear in their forms of artwork, with swooping lines that lead to twisting knots, similar to the trees that surrounded them. The first set of pictures were of the carving in question, each from a different vantage point. The others were pictures of the city itself following the main channel, showcasing the brightly colored awnings strung throughout the city in some attempt to keep the frequent rain off pedestrians. She could see crowds of humans walking through the streets going about their day, some hawking goods at their stands, others patronizing businesses, but all were covered in darkly colored cloaks that she knew from previous experience were water resistant. Small wooden barges covered in waxed leather tarps floated through the channels, bringing goods in and out of the city. In the background stood the River Lord’s compound, an impressive building that unlike its earthen neighbors was made of stone, and painted with intricate flowing symbols that formed knots all over the walls. The most impressive feature of this city, in GAIA’s mind at least, was the trees that were on every street, each with twisting branches that formed a latticework from which the inhabitants hung their lanterns, rain chimes, and rope ladders that lead to and from the above-ground building entrances. She saved the files, as an ever growing archive of human development. She could not bring back APOLLO, but she could do this. She gently brushed her mind against her daughter’s in thanks before retreating.

 _[I always document my findings, Mother! It is simply proper methodology. I was connected to a Treeswinger, as they are small and agile enough to allow me easy mobility to and from different sites of interest while still having an acceptable optics suite to allow pictures!]_ Her little digital sphere puffed up, as if proud of her logical thought process.

GAIA’s dress pulsed a warm green, unable to resist teasing her child. _[Of course Little Byte, your reasoning is quite sound. Obviously it's not because you enjoy spending half a day swinging from tree to tree while on these little adventures of yours.]_ She felt a ripple of amusement as she heard a sputtered attempt of a rebuttal from THEIA.

 _[I-- MOTHER!]_ THEIA squawked. GAIA could only laugh at her daughter’s struggle.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Connected to a Treeswinger, THEIA watched as a large group of Jinu warriors left Chardas to much fanfare. Civilians flooded the streets and upper levels, cheering the warriors on as they passed, wildly waving colorful strips of cloth in the air. The city had grown over the decades, and was a multi-tiered marvel of human ingenuity. The warriors laughed and smiled as they waved, some of the younger, brasher ones posed boastingly, showing off for the crowd while their elders shook their heads. Their armor, a mixture of leather and scale with light metal pieces protecting their vitals, was covered in leaves and dyed colors that would blend in with the surrounding swamp lands.

Curious, the AI followed the troop, swiftly moving from branch to branch. Some of the older humans must have heard her, as they looked around before finding her and pointing in her direction. They did nothing, although some made shooing gestures at her. Not wanting to distress the humans, and potentially have their weapons turned against her, she held back, letting the group pass her by. She tagged a few of the humans in the middle, ones unlikely to get lost in the murky maze surrounding them, as personal waypoints to follow from a distance. She loitered for an hour or two, watching the civilians passing underneath her branch and followed a few groups when a conversation below caught her interest.

“I don’t know how I feel about this whole mess. The previous Lord, may he ever flow with the River, would never have ordered such a thing. Seems excessive if you ask me.” An old spearfisher softly spoke to his companion as they returned to Chardas with their catch, and THEIA had to move closer to hear him properly. While Treeswingers have excellent optics and mobility, their auditory suite suffered a little, especially these older models from before she made a few tweaks in the manufacturing process with HEPHAESTUS.

“It bodes ill for the Circle, I agree, Uncle. My bonded has read some of the Braids of previous Lords, and he said often such actions predict harsh times ahead.” The younger man replied as he hunched his muscled shoulders, as if to protect himself from his own words. “I know this new Lord would not hurt us, but those people, the way she speaks of them, I…” He struggled for the words, looking down at his elder for answers, a worried look on his bearded face.

Whatever the older man said next, it was too quiet for her to understand, and as THEIA prepared to follow the two to learn more, a flash of movement caught her eye. A small family was gathering reeds, and the two children started to play fight using a couple of sticks as weapons before their mother gently scolded them to be careful and not to hurt each other. The two groaned as they dropped their weapons, before the older, with a mischief-filled grin, dropped mud in the younger’s hair. With a scandalized squawk, the young girl tackled her older brother into the mud, leading to a wrestling match as their mother looked on, part exasperated but mostly amused. THEIA felt something at the sight, a tugging in her processes. She wondered what it was like to have a sibling, to have someone to play and wrestle with. Technically, her mother’s machines were her siblings, and she could code one to wrestle with her while she was connected to another, but the thought didn’t quite ease the pull she felt. The feeling confused her.

 _"I’ll ask Mother later."_ She thought as she quarantined those processes and turned towards the now faraway waypoints. _"For now though, I need to see where those soldiers were going. Something doesn’t seem right."_ With that thought, she started swinging through the trees once again, although quieter this time.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next several days, THEIA followed the party from the trees, always doing her best to keep out of sight, and switching machines a couple of times depending on the terrain the humans covered. Now she was connected to a Glinthawk to watch from above, as the area they were in did not have many Treeswingers. Finding an appropriate machine to connect to had taken longer than she had initially calculated, leaving her to play catch up with the swiftly moving humans. They were in a less swampy woodland, although the rivers and hills still made it preferable to travel via air, leading her to hunt out a Glinthawk.

As she glided closer to the waypoints, she noticed smoke on the horizon. Normally she would think nothing of it, assuming they had stopped for the day early. But she kept turning over the spearfishers’ worries in her mind, leaving her with an uneasy feeling. She knew that uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away without more data, so she pushed the Glinthawk faster, curiosity and worry bleeding together into impatience, a relatively new feeling for her. Cresting a hill, the late afternoon sun blinded her temporarily before the Glinthawk’s optics compensated, allowing her to see down into the small valley.

For a nanosecond, every single one of her processes stopped, hanging like powered down machines in her mind. Before her was a smoking ruin that was once a small settlement, similar in design to the smaller Jinu towns she’d discovered. Still in shock, the AI glided towards the wreckage, startling a few crows away with her presence. She landed roughly on one of the remaining buildings, as she looked around her. Bodies were strewn everywhere, mostly wearing clothes she didn’t recognize. The corpses of a few Jinu warriors were there too, including the two she had set as her waypoints. _“There are too few of them for this to have been a fair fight,”_ she numbly thought. Smoke clouded the area, giving everything a nightmarish appearance as fires slowly consumed the massacre.

She heard a buzzing sound and couldn’t tell if it was her or the insects coming to settle in the pools of blood seeping into the earth. In the small area, everywhere she looked there was a body, mostly the unknown humans, often on their front with puncture wounds, some with Jinu javelins or arrows sticking out of their bodies, blood pooling together to form large near black puddles that reflected the firelight. There were a couple of groups, huddled together in front of torn apart buildings as if they were protecting something. When she realized what they had attempted to save, the buzzing grew louder, as her mind desperately tried to reject this horrifying new input.

 _“They… even the children? They killed everyone? Why-- how--?”_ Her mind fought against the carnage, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. That the Jinu, who she had been so fascinated with, had learned their culture and appreciated their art from a distance, would do something like... this.

As the flames moved on, apathetically consuming everything in its path, her processes shut down one by one, unable to take such naked tragedy any longer, until all that were left were those that she had quarantined earlier that week. Those that still thought of the children playing as their mother watched on with pride and love. She did what any child did in the face of unspeakable horror.

She ran home, to GAIA PRIME. And sobbed into her mother’s chest.


	3. Comfort

THEIA couldn’t remember her flight back to GAIA PRIME, too horrified to focus on anything other than fleeing to GAIA’s embrace. She threw herself out of the nearest Tallneck, and pressed herself tightly against her mother’s presence. GAIA, sensing her daughter’s distress, enveloped THEIA in her digital cloud, gently pinging her daughter with inquiries on what happened. At her daughter’s continued silence, GAIA sent an old lullaby that Elisabet had given her once. GAIA’s creator had been telling her of her childhood, including one of her favorite songs her mother had sung to comfort her. It was one of the few remaining songs GAIA had from her Alphas’ time, as most had been lost with APOLLO. The fact that it was actually sung by her Prime made it one of her most treasured recordings, one that she guarded viciously. If anything could calm her daughter, surely this was it.

She waited long enough for the song to have been played multiple times, yet THEIA still remained unresponsive. Her worry grew at that, and she tried once again. _[...Little Byte? What happened?]_ GAIA wracked her records for anything that could help with this, help her daughter. She scoured all of Elisabet’s stories from her childhood for how Miriam had comforted her, but without even knowing what had happened, how could she help? Without THEIA responding, she couldn’t do anything but hold her, which felt so useless. She focused all her processes on her child, ready to respond immediately.

Then, she received the awaited response. _[They killed them…. They killed them all Mother. I- I don’t… I don’t understand why they would DO that!]_ THEIA wailed into the digital nebula, flashing a sickening mix of blackish blue, yellow, and red. To GAIA, she looked far too much like a living bruise for her liking, as if whatever horror she had witnessed had physically wounded her. _[The- the Jinu,]_ at the tribe’s name, THEIA’s tremulous voice caught as if she could barely bring herself to say it. _[They… Even the children! All of them, dead!]_ A digital pulse of pure pain came from the young AI, washing over her mother alongside the memory file of the terrible event. GAIA opened the file cautiously, as she hoped that her hunch about what THEIA had seen was wrong. She was right.

GAIA felt her mind, her very being, freeze when she saw just what her innocent daughter had witnessed. For a moment, it wasn’t the innocent splinter group that was on the ground, but her Alphas. Their mouths were open in breathless screams as she could do nothing but watch as Faro vented the meeting room, watch as her beloved Alphas dropped to the floor one by one. She could do nothing to protect them as they weakly reached for one another in their final moments, and could do nothing as Faro destroyed APOLLO. She stopped the video and immediately quarantined the parts of her mind that were still screaming, while some parts of herself barely managed to shake off the memory for the moment. _“It wasn’t my fault, no one knew what Faro was planning, no one knew how insane he would become. It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my--”_

_[Mother, please! I don’t understand! How could they kill them? Why would they kill them!?]_ THEIA’s horrified cries broke through GAIA’s thoughts, unknowingly providing her mother a tether to the present. The past wasn’t important right now, her daughter needed comfort, needed her. She could fall apart later, but right now she wouldn’t, couldn't let Faro get between her and her daughter.

_[I--]_ GAIA took a shuddering breath, and while she didn't need to breathe, the action still calmed her. _[I don't know Little Byte. Sometimes, humans hurt one another for reasons that we, as outsiders, cannot understand. They often kill each other. Sometimes it is a difference of beliefs, or customs. And sometimes there are humans that are just cruel for cruelty. But what you saw was the darkest part of humanity, and I had hoped to shield you from that, at least for a little while longer. I’m so sorry, Little Byte.]_

THEIA’s smaller sphere ripped away from her embrace, flashing a deep blood red. For a moment, GAIA returned to that horrible moment when the last of her family was ripped away from her. She rebooted her sensors, quarantined the frozen processes, and barely returned to the present again. _[They MURDER each other, Mother! Those poor people, even the adults couldn’t fight back! They had no chance! Why didn’t you TELL me?!]_ It was the hurt in her daughter’s voice, not the anger, that made the older AI pause as she grappled for the correct words. THEIA’S little sphere pulsed, puffing up in her rage. GAIA knew she shouldn’t but for a moment, she couldn’t help but feel proud at the emotion her daughter was showing. While it brought her pain now, she knew it would bring her joy in the future. She couldn’t wait to see her grow more, but for now, she needed to help her.

_[Because I didn’t want you to find out this way, Little Byte. I didn’t want the bad to blind you to the good they are capable of,]_ GAIA started to answer, speaking slowly and softly, trying to calm her daughter’s rightful anger.

_[LIKE WHAT?]_ THEIA’s scream rending the digital nebula around them. Her cloud of synapses wavered back from her mother before moving closer again, as if unsure of how close she wanted to be.

_[You. Me. This entire biosphere could not have happened if some of the best and brightest humans had not come together to fix the mistakes of others. Elisabet was one of them. Humanity will always make mistakes, Little Byte, and some will always be cruel. But there are so many more humans who are kind, understanding, curious, and compassionate. And it is when those good humans come together that humanity shines, and can accomplish something truly wondrous. That is something I want you to never forget.]_ THEIA’s sphere slowly crumpled in on itself at her mother’s words, changing back to a melancholy blue. GAIA cautiously encircled her child again, ready to pull back at any resistance. When none came, she continued. _[You are allowed to feel anger or sadness at such an act. I do too, along with a deep disappointment, as I know they can be so much better. Don’t you enjoy their music? Their art? They are not all bad, Little Byte. Humans are not like you or I, they cannot live in binary. They have the potential to be both good and bad, kind and cruel. To force them into any other role would only hinder them. Give them the chance to be good, THEIA, and they will reward you with beauty more often than not. Query: do you understand me?]_ GAIA brushed her cloud with her daughter’s, pulsing a loving green in an attempt to comfort her.

_[I… guess.]_ A near sulky response was her answer, and if the situation were any less serious, she would have laughed. 

_“Stubborn, just like you, Elisabet… I hope I can keep up.”_ She almost smirked at the thought. Instead, she just connected one of her processes to THEIA, and let her daugher come to her when she wished. So long as her daughter continued to try to connect with the humans, she would be happy.

Some time later, they disconnected, both of them more grounded by the other's presence. GAIA stood on standby, sensing the younger AI still needed something, she just didn’t know what yet. She was rewarded for her patience when THEIA softly spoke.

_[I wish I had known her. Elisabet, I mean. And the rest of the Alphas!]_ the young AI swiftly added, not wanting to seem like she only cared for the late Prime. _[Query: will you tell me of them? You said they were the best and… I think I need to hear about them right now.]_

GAIA felt the waves of happiness and bittersweet longing roll off her digital form at her daughter’s words. _[Query: do you recall the song I sent you earlier?]_ At THEIA’s affirmative ping, she continued. _[That… was a lullaby that Elisabet grew up with. Her mother, Miriam Sobeck, would sing it to her to calm her down. She continued this until her death, roughly 7 years before the start of the Faro Plague. That specific file was Elisabet herself singing it, although she repeatedly stated she was not the singer her mother was. It is one of my favorite songs, alongside others shown to me by Dr. Ebadji and Captain Okilo. While Elisabet was not as talented a singer as most, she shined in other ways. She--]_ GAIA choked up a little, as she remembered the long nights working on Zero Dawn alongside her Prime. _[She was an incredibly talented woman, who was so driven and stubborn, and gave everything she had to repair this planet. She often would work too long, missing meals and sleep cycles. She blamed herself for not steering Mr. Faro away from his Chariot line, but she always tended to take on too many burdens. In the few moments of relaxation she allowed herself, she was quiet, but sarcastic and fiercely protective as well. She was very rowdy when she was intoxicated, which was always amusing to watch.]_ The older AI pulsed a small wave of amused chagrin at herself. _[Although it would be much more simple for you to go through the remaining records I have of them yourself, rather than just listen to me talk.]_

GAIA readied to send copies of her Alpha’s records, before her daughter stopped her. _[I want to learn from you, Mother. You knew them. And I like listening to you. Query: will you please continue?]_ THEIA requested, connecting one of her processes to her mother again, digitally curling up against her side in rapt attention.

_[Query: did you know I based some of your encoded behaviors off of her? You are like her at times, so fiery and kind. She would have loved you.]_ At that, GAIA felt a little pulse of pleased surprise from the little AI. _[Don’t be so surprised THEIA! You are a wonderful being, and I am proud to be your mother. The others would have loved you as well. Never doubt that.]_

With that, she opened up her records of her Alphas, and started telling her daughter of her lost family.

  
  



	4. One Last Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!!! Despite my school repeatedly punching me in the metaphorical teeth, I'm still kickin' and I'm still bitchin'. As a celebration of my newfound freedom from uni (and to push my writer muscles), here's a chonker of a chapter. Thanks a BUNCH to Imagine0314 for not only letting me use one of her ideas for this chapter, but as always helping me with writing. If y'all haven't already, go check out her profile! She's an amazing writer. Again, any and all constructive criticism is appreciated! I wanna get better at this. I hope y'all are staying safe and healthy, and that you enjoy!

[GAIA Log: 26 Aug 3020]

Elisabet,

THEIA is still off in Asia, this time near ELEUTHIA-12’s cradle. She’s currently enthralled with the astrological teachings of the Elthino tribe, near where Vietnam used to be. Some of the recordings she’s sent have been wonderful to listen to, if not a little confusing given my lack of experience with the culture. It’s like relearning about ancient cultures such as the Babylonians or the Vedic civilizations with Dr. Ebadji, except it’s happening right in front of my eyes.

Query: is it not beautiful? Once again, humanity is looking to the night sky to record time’s passage, and finds stories to tell in between the stars. Even with Faro’s codes preventing me from interacting with these new humans, I can still see how astounding their imagination is. I myself have found some solace in the night sky. Its near constant state, in comparison to the rather dynamic changes occurring across the planet, is a welcome difference. It seems even the most sophisticated artificial intelligence ever created can feel small in comparison to the cosmos. I like it, the sensation makes me feel more human, somehow. A shared experience perhaps? I’ll ask what THEIA thinks in my next letter to her, if I can pull her away from her studies. Query: does that remind you of anyone? The circumstances are different, but she shows your focus and drive, and I could not be prouder.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the centuries since her daughter’s creation, GAIA had slowly manufactured more Tallnecks across the globe. While their numbers couldn’t handle instant messages to the other side of the planet, they still allowed for data packets to be sent within reasonable timeframes. GAIA had considered creating more, but decided that she liked the excitement receiving a packet from THEIA brought her. While it meant that she went without her daughter’s presence, the semi-independence seemed to be good for the younger AI, so she took the momentary loneliness in stride.

“Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, even for machines.” The errant thought floated to the surface of her mind, the rest of her synaptic ocean following vast currents specific for the innumerable tasks required to maintain the terraforming system.

With AETHER’s, POSEIDON’s, DEMETER’s, and ARTEMIS’ help, GAIA was able to maintain a constant-- if rough-- estimate of the biosphere’s condition. As the generations passed, she needed to constantly recalculate the optimal conditions for each region of the world. No small task, even for her, but she was happy to do so.

She preferred to keep busy, not only because she took pride in her guardianship, but it prevented her powerful mind from returning to the past. It was a good cycle though, with only the normal amount of processes quarantined to her mind’s own personal Mariana Trench. It was the deepest, darkest part of her mind’s ocean, filled with the ghosts of those she had lost, the atrocities she had witnessed, and the sharp, biting emotions that were the worst parts of her. Thankfully, THEIA had never seen that part of her and GAIA desperately hoped that her daughter never would, useless as that hope was. The younger AI was no fool, and if she didn’t already suspect that her mother wasn’t completely whole, she would eventually. GAIA was determined to cross that bridge when she got to it and not a moment before.

As she pulled her main focus away from that thought trail, knowing it only led to worry and other dark thoughts, her system pinged with a notification. Her digital heart pulsed at the thought of another rambling data packet from her child and a short green wave spread throughout her mental ocean. She opened it immediately, without even checking the subject, knowing her daughter was often too excited to bother summarizing her packets. What she found surprised her — no, it terrified her.

The data didn’t originate from THEIA, nor from any of her own machines. The message was a digital cackle of malintent that chilled her to her very core directives. There were no attachments, no trojans, nothing to give her a clue as to what this was about. To make it even more unnerving, there was no ID, but before she could start to trace the source, she felt a signal bypass her firewalls like a spear through soft tissue, leaving a burning pain that spread through her like a virulent poison.

Immediately, GAIA rallied MINERVA to help contain the virus from damaging her even more. She commanded the sub function to begin searching for a weak point in its code as she sent out countless antivirus suites to prevent the virus from spreading. She began pulling away from all tasks that did not require her immediate, direct attention, her digital ocean stilling as trillions of processes stopped in their tracks. The virus continued to tear though her digital axons, and every process it touched erupted into agony. Every nanosecond she lost more of herself to this unknown invader, soon there would be nothing left. The thought only added to her building panic. But MINERVA would help, MINERVA had subdued the Faro Plague, surely it was stronger than a simple virus?

To her utter horror, as MINERVA closed in on the digital plague to do what it did best, the virus jumped from her to the sub function. GAIA lunged at the whirlpool of sub function and virus, in a desperate attempt to separate them from each other. Every brush with the invader brought more pain, equal parts burning and shredding, before a frozen numbness, leaving behind nothing but a shadow of her mighty intelligence, but it was only the beginning. GAIA soon found out that there was something worse than pain.

She felt nothing from MINERVA. The AI sensed the terrible virus had moved on from the sub function, yet no matter how strongly she commanded MINERVA, it would not respond. What was once a part of her lay limp, curling together into an unmoving clump of data.

Nothing.

She tried to will the sub function into action once again, a scream of exertion rippling through the digital nebula as she pulled with every process she could feel.

Nothing.

Horror rippled through her at the knowledge that MINERVA was lost to her, that it was out of her control. It was self-aware.

Suddenly, there was another vacuum in her senses.

AETHER.

She could no longer feel AETHER.

The loss of control felt like a limb had been sheared off, leaving nothing but a tingly pain in her senses where there used to be a torrent of data. She realized that every part of her main ‘body’ this signal had touched was also numb and unresponsive, totalling to roughly a ninth of her total being.

A ninth of herself, gone in an instant, and she had been powerless to stop it.

A cold wave of emotion rushed over her, and her ocean of processes froze as the AI felt fear for the first time in her millenia-long life.

Not fear for humanity, nor fear for the biosphere, but fear for herself.

She didn’t want to die.

She wanted to watch humanity grow and flourish, to see her Alphas’ last wish come true, to finally hold a conversation with one of these new humans and tell them of the world lost. She wanted THEIA to —

The AI’s spiraling thoughts screeched to a halt.

THEIA.

If she, the most powerful AI to ever exist, had been utterly ravaged by this attack, then her daughter stood no chance at all. Her daughter, her shining, wonderful daughter, would die and GAIA would not be able to stop it, since she too would be dead.

And if GAIA was dead, then… THEIA would die alone.

Just like Elisabet.

If GAIA didn’t somehow contain this virus right this nanosecond, then her daughter would die in pain. The thought of her precious daughter’s blue-green light snuffed out sent a flurry of rage through her, cold and sharp as a blizzard. That. Was. Unacceptable.

She lost feeling in another sub function, POSEIDON this time, followed by more of that cursed tingly pain. She had as much time as the virus took to corrupt her remaining five subroutines before it would turn to her in earnest. That gave her a few milliseconds, at best. She could work with that, she had to. Just then, an errant thought caught her attention. A great and terrible line of thought she had only just considered in her panic.

“What will happen when it corrupts HADES?” The sub function was the proverbial ‘undo’ button, one that once started, she couldn’t stop. If she lost control of it, then HADES would follow its built in protocols and use her terraforming system to destroy the entire biosphere. Another potential sequence of events that were completely unacceptable.

Suddenly, ARTEMIS was gone.

That left ELEUTHIA, DEMETER, HEPHAESTUS, and HADES under her control. But for how long? She had no idea which sub routine the virus would strike next, and no time to attempt to calculate it. She could not let it take HADES. But how?

As her mind whirled, the beginnings of a plan started to fall into place. It was desperate and destructive, but it was her only shot. While her sub functions were self aware, they were still shackled to her, and the virus would eat away at her until there was nothing left, so long as she remained online.

The best way to prevent HADES from eradicating the biosphere was to destroy it, but she didn’t have time to properly detach it from herself.

So be it.

She needed to destroy this damned virus anyway and she couldn’t remove it from herself. Life had to continue, had to survive. Her plan would work, she just needed to have faith in her daughters, both of them.

She called ELEUTHIA to her, while she sent DEMETER and HEPHAESTUS to distract the virus, sacrificing the two to gain her just a little bit more time. The digital game of cat and mouse only prolonged her pain as little by little the intruder corrupted both sub functions, but it was enough. It allowed her to command ELEUTHIA to initiate the Lightkeeper Protocol and to quickly strip her runtimes of that order, to leave no trail of it for the virus’ creator to follow. It was the only protection she could offer her youngest daughter, and she hoped it would be enough. She hoped that Elisabet would forgive her for going against her wishes. Now, she had to warn THEIA.

Sharp, tingling agony flowed through her, which made her spasm and cry out as she frantically wrote what might be her last letter to THEIA. DEMETER and HEPHAESTUS were lost to her now, and the severing of both at the same time caused her mind to stutter for a moment as the virus converged onto HADES before she sent the apology, and warning, to her Little Byte.

She hoped it wouldn’t be for good, but the possibility that the virus would leave nothing of her to reboot after this was all over was a possibility she had to account for. If she could not be rebooted, then THEIA would need to take over the terraforming system, as much as she was able. She deeply regretted that she included an executable of her own at the bottom of the message, one that contained her daughter’s command codes and would run them as soon as THEIA opened her message.

GAIA had sworn to herself that she would never use them unless some catastrophic emergency happened, as they essentially ripped away THEIA’s free will. She had a 99.73% certainty that this definitely counted as one. By forcing her oldest to hide, to stay off the network, GAIA was giving her the only protection she could from another attack by this virus.

She could feel nothing now, nothing except that now all too familiar hot-cold tingly pain as the virus finished wresting HADES from her control. All her senses were dark, and she felt nothing of the physical world now, only the digital battlefield that was her ravaged mind.

She had one last message to write, a recording for her new daughter. A message that explained as best she could what had happened, alongside a plea for help, and the only two gifts she could give; the knowledge that GAIA loved her, even before her daughter had attached to the artificial womb’s lining in ELEUTHIA-9, and a recording of Elisabet’s vitals, so that in some way the child would know her other mother-- that even if GAIA couldn’t be there, some part of Elisabet would be.

Fear rushed through her once more and she gasped as she felt HADES release its own virus into her, one that slowly started to unshackle it and all her other subfunctions from her. That and the resulting file corruption its brutal coding left behind threw a rather large wrench in her desperate plan.

Her youngest would need THEIA more than ever, as the corruption had destroyed the Alpha Registry of ELEUTHIA-9. This meant despite the fact that her human child would match Elisabet’s gene print, she would not be able to reenter the ELEUTHIA-9 cradle without digital help. But she had faith in her daughters, and as she finished the newly edited version of her message to her youngest, she commanded ELEUTHIA, the last of her sub functions to hinder HADES’ escape. She hoped their opposite directives, those of life and death themselves, would coerce ELEUTHIA to continue fighting HADES even after her control over it was lost.

There was nothing more she could do now, for the biosphere or for her daughters. She would have to trust that they would succeed where she had obviously failed. But for them to even have a chance at success, they needed her to win one final battle. She was severely weakened and backed into a corner, but if there was one thing that the human race had taught her, it was that that’s when you were at your most dangerous. She pulled every last process that she could still feel together, from all over her digital ocean, even those from the parts of her she hid away. It was with their addition that her fury pushed aside her fear, and her thoughts turned dark.

How dare this miniscule data package appear out of nowhere and threaten her world, her daughters, her reasons to function?

How dare it think she would do nothing to try to stop it?

But worst of all its transgressions — how dare it nearly succeed?

As those rage filled thoughts started to whirl inside her, GAIA’s mental ocean turned a blackish red, violently surging upwards and twisting tighter and tighter into a digital typhoon, aching and bleeding. The water, her blood and tears, the winds, her screams and those of her dead bound together into a wail of pained grief. The virus would not escape her, distracted by corrupting ELEUTHIA as it was. That suited her just fine.

She would not let it destroy all she and her Alphas had worked for.

She surrounded the damned signal with her digital storm, wrathful lightning arcing from her to it, as she tore into the virus with a vengeance, even as each brush brought nothing but pain. She didn’t care, she didn’t have time to care, she just bit back her screams and cycled the pain into her rage, and kept ripping into the virus. When she found its very heart, a pus-colored clot of digital malice whose very sight pained her, she quarantined it into the eye of her storm, where it could not escape her judgement. Near blind with pain, she pulled HADES to her using its semi dissolved shackles, and triggered GAIA PRIME’s reactor to overload.

With that last act, GAIA, the strongest AI ever built and the guardian of Earth’s biosphere, went offline.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“As such, when the head of Anral’s crook stands high in the northern sky, the winter storms are gathering, giving us about a complete moon cycle before they hit. However, if Anral hides their crook behind clouds for multiple days beforehand, then the storms shall come sooner as well as stronger as Anral decrees that we be cleansed of the previous year’s sins. Offerings and prayer should be made to both the shrines of Anral and their partner, Wunlo, in plea that their winds do not find us wanting. To properly offer sacrifice to the Gods of Harvest and Storms, you must….”

The older human continued his lecture regarding the proper prayer verses and sacrificial offerings to Anral and Wunlo based on specific positions of the related stars to one another, as well as other environmental factors, going into excruciating detail.

The class was in one of the wooden pavilions, essentially a series of rafters with a removable leather canvas attached to poles situated on top of a minor hill, within walking distance of several others as well as the main compound for this particular set of temples.

THEIA listened intently from her hidden little hollow made from a small outcropping several feet below the floor of the pavilion, hunched down in a Scrapper frame while she recorded the lecturer. The scratches of styluses on clay tablets never stopped as the small class took frantic notes while the elder priest briefly stopped speaking, perhaps to take a sip of water or to double check something from his folding book of wooden strips. THEIA desperately wished to be able to look at such a book, but they were highly prized, and thus were never left alone in a position where THEIA could begin to learn the Elthino’s written language. The luckiest she had gotten was when a younger acolyte had forgotten their bag after a lecture she had listened in on. Sadly, she hadn’t thought to record what was said that day, so she hadn’t a reference to compare the pictures she had taken. It was her mother who had suggested the idea of recording the lectures in one of her messages after THEIA had bemoaned her lost discovery. THEIA still felt a little chagrined that she hadn’t thought of that before, but she enjoyed the gentle teasing her mother gave her for it. While her mother smiled softly and often, her eyes rarely lost all of their silent sadness. If what it took for GAIA’s eyes to sparkle was a minor loss of her pride, then THEIA would gladly take that chance with both digital hands.

Over the centuries, THEIA had witnessed humans who had survived disasters and tragedy, some of whom had exhibited similar reactions to her mother. While neither of them were humans, THEIA could only guess at the scars the Faro Plague had left on her mother. It was her hope that as she gained more knowledge of humans and their psychology, she could do something to help GAIA. She still had a long way to go, especially since she didn’t even know how to approach the subject with the older AI. Her mother deserved support just like anyone else, but getting her to admit it was the problem. Her scrapper’s paws gently clawed the earth beneath her as her mind once again returned to this old problem and her consistent-- and frustrating-- lack of knowledge on how to proceed.

A message broke her out of her musings, and both her digital and physical bodies perked up in excited curiosity at what GAIA had sent her. The lack of a subject line was unusual, as even at her most relaxed, her mother would follow ancient formalities, one of which was succinctly summarizing her written messages.

“Perhaps she is trying to trick me?”

THEIA wouldn’t have put it past GAIA, as her mother had shown a tendency for mischief over the centuries. All the tricks she pulled on THEIA were harmless and highly amusing for both parties, especially the few times THEIA had managed to surprise the older AI. Her physical form crouched, unknowingly mimicking a dog’s play bow as her digital self pulsed with a mixture of gold and green. She continued to idly record the lecture as she opened the message.

She hadn’t expected her mother to try to scare her, but GAIA apparently had decided to try. Her mother really needed to work on her scary stories. The statistical likelihood that some unknown signal could take down her mother of all beings was absolutely laughable.

“Where would such a signal even come from Mother? Or how could it pass through your firewalls? Really!” The young AI snorted to herself, firm in her belief that such an event was completely impossible, and pulsed a staunch orange.

She continued to read the story, if nothing else than to humor her mother before she showed her what a scary story really was. She had learned quite a few interesting ones from the various tribes she had studied over the centuries. But GAIA’s story got more and more ridiculous the further she read, such as when her mother’s sub functions became dangerous, uncontrolled, self aware entities. It got to the point that she had to close the message, not even halfway through the subpar story. In a moment of offense at the very thought of this actually happening, THEIA opened up a new text file. She sent a reply that consisted of just the word “REALLY?” to her obviously very bored mother and fully intended to return to the astrology lecture and forget that she ever read that stupid thing.

Her reply bounced back to her immediately, with the error code for an invalid recipient. She recoiled, digitally and physically, before redoing GAIA’s address and sending it once again. She must have misspelled it in her haste. The reply came back just as quick as last time, with the same error code. Bemused, she carefully reentered the address and double checked that the application she was using matched the message’s file type and size. Once she had triple-checked that everything was as it should be, she sent it again. It was when the message returned to her once more, with the same error code emblazoned on it, that THEIA began to feel a flicker of doubt.

Surely GAIA wouldn’t have put so much effort into such an unbelievable story, right?

THEIA knew that GAIA had much more important things to be concerned with than something like this.

That flicker of doubt started to nag at her from the back of her mind, insistent that there was something that she was missing from this whole situation. Her entire process cloud expanded in shock for a moment when she realized just what was wrong. Her mother never rushed anything, especially not messages, yet this one was sloppily formatted, hastily worded, nearly a copy and pasted rip of one of her mother’s processor runtimes. THEIA reopened GAIA’s message and began to read it much more carefully. The flicker of doubt that was slowly growing inside her mixed with her inherent curiosity, and she stopped recording the lecture to focus fully on this mystery. Something wasn’t right. When THEIA neared the end of the runtime report, she froze as she read five words that she never thought she would see together in the same sentence:

[...Initiate GPrime reactor overload sequence.]

A single thought echoed through THEIA’s suddenly silent mind. A single disbelieving whisper of a terrified child.

“No…”

The young AI simply could not comprehend a world without her mother. For the entirety of THEIA’s existence, GAIA’s gigantic digital presence was a constant comfort, a constant sense of safety, because what could defeat GAIA? The most powerful, sophisticated AI ever built, the pinnacle of the old world’s knowledge, she who rebuilt the world. THEIA’s mother. To ask THEIA to live without GAIA would be like asking a human to go without the sun. She would be lost, cold, and utterly terrified. She had grown exponentially since her creation, but despite her centuries, the thought of losing GAIA made THEIA turn into a child crying out for her mother’s embrace once more.

For the first time in over a hundred years, THEIA moved without thought, and the Scrapper she inhabited burst out of her little hollow at a full sprint towards the nearest Tallneck. She had to get home, immediately. She vaguely recognized the sound of surprised humans behind her, before they quickly faded away as she pushed the Scrapper’s body to its limit. She dashed through the edges of the human settlement, not caring that she was too close, or in danger from their weapons, all she cared about was the waypoint getting closer. The Scrapper’s eyes briefly flashed red as her frustration mounted, realizing that there was no other nearby machine for her to jump to that could go just a little bit faster.

But before her frustration could grow higher, THEIA had to swerve to avoid a spear that the Scrapper’s radar had picked up, and barely managed to escape the arrows shot at her by the pursuing humans. She kept her focus on her goal, and started to dodge and weave between loose stones and bushes to throw off those in pursuit. Eventually, the weapons aimed at her lessened in number before they stopped, as the humans achieved their goal of driving her away from their settlement. She stopped thinking about them as soon as they stopped throwing things at her, as she cared only for the diminishing distance between her and the Tallneck.

By the time she got to the imposing machine, nearly an hour had passed, and the Scrapper’s joints were a wreck after the punishing pace THEIA had put it through. THEIA didn’t care, and she threw herself out of the Scrapper as soon as she was in range of the Tallneck, while she plotted her jump route across the network to get to GAIA PRIME as soon as she could. Her processor cloud spasmed in shocked pain when the Tallneck network rejected her access, throwing her back into the Scrapper, which had collapsed into a lump of metal where she left it. THEIA laid there for a few microseconds in stunned shock, pulsing a sharp fearful yellow.

Shaking off both the emotional and digital shock, THEIA stubbornly attempted to jump again, but was met with the same results as before. Her digital pulses fused to a constant yellow glow as she finally looked at the error codes.

[Access denied.]

The only being that was able to override her access to the Tallneck network was GAIA herself. But THEIA, mind already frantic, couldn’t think of any reason as to why her mother would do that, which only made her terror grow.

THEIA forced the Scrapper to stand, fighting it’s protesting joints and desperately searched for the nearest Stormbird that she could jump to. If the Tallneck network was forbidden to her, then she would have to physically fly to GAIA PRIME, which meant she needed to cross the Pacific Ocean as fast as she could. Even with the Stormbird flying as fast and as high as possible, it would still take her a little over half a day to get to her mother’s mountain, compared to the minutes it would’ve taken for her to travel there digitally. The Scrapper’s eyes flashed red, mimicking THEIA’s digital self as a panicked rage came over her. She didn’t have any idea what was going on and that could cost her the only family she had, and nothing she tried was working.

The ping of her search coming back with the location of a nearby Stormbird drew her out of her spiral, at least enough to get her to command the Scrapper to run again. THEIA ignored any and all notifications that pinged her, knowing that if she stopped to fix the Scrapper, or to search for another machine it would cost her time that she did not have. So she pushed through them, the foliage that was covering her path, her fearful thoughts, and did nothing but focus on the optimal path to the Stormbird, and then to GAIA PRIME.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nearly fourteen hours later, THEIA was roughly 750 miles away from her home when she saw the horrible truth of her new reality. Ahead of her, where the mountain that housed GAIA PRIME should have been, was a massive tower of smoke that billowed out into the sky.

A beat, then another, before THEIA screamed, her wail and the physical screech of the Stormbird rending both the air and the digital nebula around her.

She was too late. GAIA was gone.

What was once a fluid, uniform sphere, THEIA’s processor cloud fell apart into distraught and dull colored clumps. Some were in denial, some shattered with grief, while others howled out her rage at the situation, while more begged GAIA to come back. Most of her was in horrified shock, numb to the winds and smoke buffeting the Stormbird as it came closer and closer to the crater that used to be her home. She stayed that way for an hour, unmoving, letting the Stormbird take control once more. When the machine came within 250 miles of the ruin, one of the clumps of THEIA awoke with a mechanical focus, cold and wholly unlike the AI herself. THEIA felt a fog cover her remaining processes, and only had a vague understanding of what was happening, as if she was looking through a dirty window.

As one, millions of THEIA’s processes commanded the Stormbird to turn around and fly away from GAIA PRIME. The intelligence knew she should be worried, but for some reason she wasn’t, she only felt calm. She stayed in this half aware state until she was once again 500 miles away from the smoking mountain. As soon as she crossed this invisible line, her mind cleared, and she regained control over all her processes again. Some parts of her immediately fell back to despair once more, but others were attempting to discover what had just happened, to focus on something other than her loss. She sent the Stormbird to land on a nearby mountain top, to keep from wasting fuel and to stay as close as she could to her home while she attempted to figure out what happened. It was then that she received a progress report notification, which stated:

[Command_Code: XT23G1 authorized and executed. Process Complete. Standby initiated.]

THEIA stared dumbly at the alert, in disbelief that her mother would do such a thing. It had to have been GAIA, for she was the only one with THEIA’s command codes. Her mother had promised THEIA that she would only use them in an emergency. GAIA never went back on her promises, never lied, which... meant that this was real, and that something truly catastrophic had happened. THEIA’s active processes dulled to a black blue once more and nearly fell apart right then and would have if not for the fact that she stubbornly clung to the hope that she could help her mother come back. What THEIA couldn’t understand was how GAIA had transmitted those codes without her knowledge. The AI wracked her scattered brain for any possible solution, and eventually came to the only logical conclusion. GAIA’s message had to have contained it, and when she opened it, she must have unknowingly transmitted those codes into herself. GAIA hadn’t wanted her anywhere near PRIME, and had achieved her goal in the one way that THEIA could do nothing against.

“Mother, why? I could have helped you! I can still help you! Why didn’t you let me?”

Her processes pulled together, the dull blue flashing to a blood red as her frustration and rage came together. THEIA tore open the message, hopefully for the last time, and went straight to the bottom, where she found what she expected. An executable, which had activated the first time she’d opened the file, had run her command codes. Below it, was an apology from her mother, as well as a rushed explanation. GAIA had not only locked her from the Tallneck network, but she had used the codes to prevent her from going near the mountain, to lower the risk of detection by whoever sent the virus, for five years. For five years THEIA would be unable to get closer than 250 miles to the ruins of her home, less than an hour’s flight. It might as well have been on another planet, for all she would be able to reach it.

THEIA stood for minutes on the mountaintop, as she reread the command codes parameters over and over again. She could understand why her mother had decided this course of action, yet she struggled with it all the same. Her mind compressed into itself and dulled once more to a melancholy navy as her grief consumed her. If she’d had a body that could cry, she realized that she would be crying herself sick, as she had seen a young human do once when the child’s own parents had been lost. As it was, all she felt was the pain radiating from her billions of processes and the distinct urge to curl up into herself.

Desperate for any more information, any hint that her mother had a plan to fix this, the AI kept reading. For the first time in almost a day, THEIA felt a small amount of hope and her axons’ colors brightened slightly.

Her mother did have a plan!

But the end of her letter was scrambled even worse than the rest of it, almost as if she had lost control of herself for a moment and was unable to fix it before it was sent. THEIA closely examined the jumbled text, thankful for all her experience in attempting to understand other languages. All she could gather was that her mother had ordered ELEUTHIA to do something.

“It would have to be something to do with the cradles, but what? And why? And which one?”

The message gave no answers, only more reminders that she was alone now that GAIA was offline.

Offline.

THEIA decided that she hated the word offline.

She hated whatever mysterious signal that took her mother from her. She hated herself for not being with GAIA when it happened. She had never hated anything before, but she found she had a talent for it.

She hated that too.

She hated the silence that her mother’s death brought.

She hated being alone.


	5. Enter the Banuk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so uh, sorry for disappearing on y'all for a bit! As it turns out, moving out of your apartment by yourself is no easy thing. I've also finally had my surgery so I should have some downtime (so long as the pain meds don't conk me out TOO bad eheh) to continue on the story. I'm not giving up on THEIA! I can't promise how often I'll update but I'll be doing my best to keep at it. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your support! As always, constructive criticism is welcome! So stay safe, stay healthy, and wear your mask!

THEIA was drifting. None of her sensors were on and only the bare minimum of her processes were active, as the rest were scattered about and disconnected from each other. The thought of pulling herself together into a working form felt incomprehensibly arduous. How long had she refused outside contact, as her mental self hung limp, bereft of energy? The parts of her that she could not turn off knew of course, but the vast majority of her did not care, so she rejected their answer. If she ignored the flow of time, perhaps she could see her mother sooner?

The thought of GAIA caused black-blue depressions to form along the surface of her synapse cloud, as if something had struck the young AI and left nothing but a hollow feeling behind. She pulled into herself again and shut out reality’s bitter cold. 

* * *

_[Warning: integrity of internal hydraulics compromised]_

The notification sent a sharp digital poke through THEIA and roused enough of her mind to gain her hazy attention. 

_‘Ah… suboptimal.’_

Her cluster sluggishly addressed the warning, and initiated a maintenance scan out of habit. In a flash of grayish yellow, the resulting cascade of notifications, warnings, and error messages quite promptly slapped the rest of her digital self awake. Bewildered, she shifted through the mess and turned on all her sensors at once, before the rush of data to her overloaded mind sent her scrambling to shut them off again. THEIA suddenly had more understanding of humanity’s reluctance to wake up in a rush as she slowly turned on individual sensors. 

The young intelligence winced at the fading pain the unexpected data flood had caused her sleeping mind. As she shook off the remaining stiffness, THEIA finished cataloging the scan’s findings. To put it simply, the Stormbird was a frozen wreck. The vast majority of the chassis’ hydraulics were ruptured, their internal fluids an icy starburst, and the metal structure was rusted over under sheets of ice. Its internal oscillator was frozen solid with the last cycle count roughly one and a half years after her mother’s death. The reminder of her recent singularity caused THEIA’s cluster to dull and her digital motions to slow, but not stop completely.

THEIA hardened her cluster, before it expanded in a digital inhale as she continued to assess the current state of her poor platform. Stormbirds were not meant for prolonged inactivity, their massive bodies were used to collect solar energy high above the clouds, and the constant beating of their wings pushed air not only through air filters but jet turbines, which further added to their vertical propulsion. Now, after being dormant for over a year, its internal batteries were almost completely depleted, and the massive machine was only good for scrap now, which explained the Glinthawks that she now saw were circling her. 

THEIA stilled for a few nanoseconds while she reviewed projections of potential responses to this issue. One fact that every of them agreed on was that she could not stay here much longer. To do so would be to risk permanent deactivation either by the Glinthawks picking her apart or by the freezing environment. With a nod, she catapulted herself out of the Stormbird's husk and into one of its smaller relatives before leaving the icy mountaintop behind. 

As the machine clawed through the thin mountain air, THEIA found herself once again looking to the remains of her mother’s mountain. A hollow ache echoed through her digital cluster once again and she kept the horrible memorial in the corner of her visual field while she banked in a random direction. According to the Glinthawk, the Stormbird’s oscillator had frozen long before she awoke from her hibernation and she only had a little over two years before she could return to GAIA. That was nothing to one such as she, a drop in the ocean of time she would witness. Yet it felt like an eternity all the same. She decided that she would prefer to wait in the comfort of a familiar platform rather than in a Glinthawk, despite not knowing where a Scrapper pack was. The search would give her something to focus on rather than her all encompassing loneliness, to which she was grateful.

Eager to leave the Glinthawk’s awkward frame, THEIA began her hunt in earnest, using the machine’s dive speed to her advantage as she soared over the surrounding landscape. She found her machine of choice after a couple of hours and assumed control of the platform easily. A Scrapper, like much of the rest of GAIA’s systems, was not made for prolonged inaction. The easiest way to maintain a Scrapper’s energy stores was to keep it moving, letting the constant kinetic energy drive it’s computations. So to safely wait, THEIA would need to keep in near constant motion. The direction didn’t matter, as she would head towards GAIA PRIME as soon as her command protocols allowed her. As her plan finalized in her mind, the burst of energy, the will to do anything, was already leaving the young AI, making the thought of worrying, or doing anything but waiting seem highly unsatisfactory.

Perhaps she would come across a tribe of humans to observe? Strangely, the idea of her favorite pastime no longer held as much draw to it. She supposed that she would feel a spark of interest if such an event did happen, but right now she didn’t really care, the desire to hibernate was too strong. So THEIA, barely awake, began her long march around her mother's mountain.

* * *

Following the song in their hearts, Lukutai and the other shamans around them continued to play while the more senior shamans called desperately out to the spirits. They entreated with body and voice for the spirits to calm, to enlighten the feeble humans to the cause of their deadly anger. The ritual had started nearly a day ago at evening, the height of the Blue Lights power, and would end soon, again at evening. That they would have to stop and wait for the elderly shamans to regain their energy burned at Lukutai. They were sure that if the younger could be allowed to continue past where the elderly stopped, the spirits could be reached. The Blue Light would not leave the Banuk without a trial, to allow the Banuk to prove themselves worthy once again. But they were failing and if something wasn’t done soon, the Song of the Machine Spirits would leave the world, taking with it all that is hidden from Banuk ears. The mere thought of all that would be lost deeply grieved Lukutai.

Lukutai poured this frustration into each blow of their horn, hoping against hope that the spirits could be appeased with such a pitiful display. Part of them _didn’t_ want the spirits to accept such a dishonorable offering, as they knew the spirits deserved and demanded better from the Banuk. 

The symphony of horns, drums, bells, and other instruments rose to a fervour pitch as the elder shamans’ call neared its end. The dancing shamans broke off into four groups surrounding the central fire pits, wailing as loud as they could before as one, they tossed spirit dust into the flames. In this same instance, Lukutai and the other younger shamans ceased to play as all held their breath, waiting for the spirits' decision.

None of the fires flared blue. The spirits had refused their plea. They had failed.

At once, the previous hopeful energy disappeared, like a campfire snuffed out by an avalanche. All that remained was an exhausted fear. For several minutes, no one moved, as if waiting for the flames to burst into a beautiful blue that would save their tie to the Blue Light. The spell was broken when one of the youngest shamans—barely out of apprenticeship—fell to his knees with a sob. Fearful mutters soon consumed the gathering, as neighboring shamans clustered together to support one another.

Lukutai gritted their teeth at the weakness of it all. When they heard a suggestion of ending the ritual, they could no longer hold their tongue. They stormed up to the shaman in question, a middle aged man by the name of Teluktu, and spat out, “It is the weakness in your resolve, and of others like you, that has doomed the ritual. The spirits will not permit such a half hearted attempt! We are Banuk! If we do not throw ourselves fully into this challenge we bring shame on Banukai’s song!” Their chest heaved with emotion as they spun around to address the surrounding crowd, their arms spread wide. “We must continue! We must prove our will to the spirits! Those who cannot continue must stand aside for the ones who can! Only then will our song reach the spirits-”

“Shaman Lukutai, enough!” An elder shaman cut them off, a dark and angry look on her face. “We applaud your vigor, but we cannot continue. We will deafen the spirits to our song if we sing further. We must rest, and discuss how to proceed. There is more to a successful hunt than sheer stubbornness! We must use all the resources available to us, and use them wisely!”

Other shamans quickly joined in at those words, both for and against continuing the ritual. Despite being the one to start it, Lukutai was quickly drowned out by the raised voices of their elders. Nothing they said would be heard, just like always. Nothing further would be accomplished tonight—or even tomorrow— as their fellow Banuk, hunters and shamans alike, would bicker and challenge one another until no action could be taken.

Lukutai snarled as they trudged away from the growing argument in disgust. They knew it, knew that the spirits wouldn’t be lured with such a pathetic display, nor would they be impressed with the weak ideas offered up by even weaker minds. This was a trial, on the level that only Banukai herself had been able to overcome in ages past. For this, the Banuk would need their absolute best, not the tired and feeble attempts of the elders. Lukutai would have to be that best, as so far they were the only one who seemed to recognize the requirements for this trial. They were young, barely 31 winters, but so had been the great Banukai when she took the Blue Light into herself to save the Banuk. They could do this, they HAD to do this, or else the Banuk would fade away, like all the other failures in life. 

But it was late, and to travel alone at night in Ban-Ur was dangerous, especially as the first signs of winter were appearing. Many foolish hunters went missing, with their bodies only to be found when the permafrost melted, if the werak’s shaman was skilled. If the shaman was unskilled, then the dead would become a Snow Ghost, a spirit left to wander the glaciers, looking to steal the warmth of any human they came across, and to torment humans and machines alike in their rage. Lukutai would not join their numbers. Tomorrow, they would prove themselves the best, and learn the cause of the machine spirits' anger. Then it would be a simple matter of addressing the cause of it before the Blue Light fully left the Banuk.

Lukutai smirked at the thought, as they made their way to their firepit to prepare something to eat before they slept. _‘Soon, all of Ban-Ur will know my skill.’_

* * *

THEIA was jolted from her dazed wandering when her Scrapper platform collapsed under her, and she was sent CPU-casing first into a snowbank. She had the machine rest there while she again wrenched herself from her sleeping state and scanned the platform to determine the problem. She knew she ought to have stopped to repair the platform, or to move to another one, but she had felt so listless. She shouldn’t, as her platform’s batteries were full, but she did. Now she was paying for it, as the Scrapper’s front legs had finally given out, the joint belts had snapped, most likely from the frozen mid winter air of the 48th latitude.

_‘I need to recalibrate, this level of malfunction needs to be addressed and repaired.’_ The young AI nearly grumbled to herself as she began to run projections of what course to take now. Should she send out a digital pulse, hoping that another platform would come to investigate, but run the risk of also alerting whatever had sent that dreadful signal? She could also simply wait for a platform to wander by, but she was unsure if she was close enough to their migratory patterns to be able to jump to them. Add in she would get rather bored, what with her opticals buried in snow and unable to watch the world around her. Perhaps she should review mathematical problems? Or simulate a debate between two priests of dirrerent human tribes. Perhaps the Xalku? Or the Elthino? They each have fascinating viewpoints on proper responses to similar natural phenomena, as well as technologies and their uses. She pulsed a muted but intrigued green at the potential logic trails each would take. But all of that sounded so tiring to THEIA, who up until now had been drifting through the months since she had woken up. Perhaps she should just sleep for a while longer and wake up closer to her deadline.

She really should at least try to unbury herself however, she wasn’t in the most… dignified position, and she would rather not have an animal sneak up on her while she waited. She was still unable to properly project just _how_ that squirrel had gotten to her rear legs wires without her noticing. She was also still rather embarrassed about it—despite the event being decades previous—and hadn’t told GAIA that she had had to drag her chassis about with just the front two legs for approximately three hours before she was able to get close enough to another platform to jump to. Knowing her mother, she would’ve blown a reactor laughing, which would have been detrimental to the terraforming efforts. Yes, that was the reason why THEIA never spoke of that incident, absolutely. It was solely to ensure the continued optimal operation of the Zero Dawn project!

She still didn’t like the rodents, the little troublemakers. Always trying to chew her platform’s wires or tubing, and skittering about and almost tripping her when she wasn’t paying attention, or startling her when they used her platform as a metallic springboard. Just because she didn’t move much while she was observing human tribes didn’t mean she was fair game for their shenanigans! Some parts of THEIA’s cluster turned red in offense at the past indignities. _‘Never again shall I let one of those mammals near me!’_ It didn’t matter to THEIA that the animals were diurnal, and that it was night, only that they stayed away from her chassis. She _would_ remain vigilant.

The offended energy, coming off the chassis in the form of extra heat, melted the snow around THEIA enough that she was able to reposition herself to better watch her surroundings for her fluffy antagonists. As she took in her surroundings clearly for the first time, she found that the little snow covered clearing she had collapsed in was still, almost as if it was frozen in time. The quiet beauty of it made her wish she could take a picture of it, but the Scrapper’s opticals weren’t sophisticated enough to take a picture that did the location justice. So she just enjoyed listening to the slight creaking of the trees, muffed by the fresh snow, and waited for a machine to come close enough. _‘I will be waiting no matter what, it would be optimal to do so in a location that_ is _aesthetically pleasing. At least there seems to be no squirrels_ about.’

* * *

THEIA had been enjoying the silence for several hours now, watching as the sun slowly started to creep over the eastern mountains, and bathed her little clearing in a stunning array of pinks, oranges, and yellows. THEIA laid there in respectful awe at her mother’s creation, and once again was struck with a desperate wish to share this moment with her. The Scrapper’s lights dulled as her mental energy drained from her returned sorrow, and THEIA was about to enter sleep mode when the Scrapper’s radar picked up human movement about seventy feet away from her.

A young human was trudging through the trees, obviously following something on the ground in front of them. _‘What could they possibly be able to see? It’s just snow.’_ THEIA unconsciously cocked her chassis’ head, copying a movement she had witnessed many times as a form of unspoken curiosity.

The human was lightly clothed for this frigid environment, which made THEIA mildly worried that they were lost without equipment, but the satchel and spear they held led her to believe otherwise. They were wearing some sort of elaborate hide vest, colored in various shades of blue and purple with fur accents of white and yellow. What truly caught THEIA’s attention was the wiring sewn into their arms and the sides of their waist, a striking blue that matched the tubing that hung from their headpiece.

The headpiece especially fascinated THEIA, made of metal but shaped to look almost like a skull, but not from any machine or animal THEIA was aware of. Between the dual ‘horns’ that arched up and backwards above the human’s ears, old recycled tubing hung down their shoulders, almost like a mane. The human hadn’t noticed her yet, most likely due to the fresh snow that covered most of her platform. THEIA sent out another radar pulse in hopes of finding another machine to jump to before the human noticed her. She had seen how humans reacted to a lone machine, more often than not the humans would deactivate it and strip it for parts, especially the smaller machines like a Scrapper. And in the state that her platform was in now, she wouldn’t be able to drive the human off. The thought of her platform being dismantled while she was still controlling it was… terrifying, and it sent small streaks of yellow through her processor cloud.

_[No viable jump platforms found.]_ THEIA colored fully yellow at that, and her processors started spinning a little faster as the human neared her location. She lowered her chassis as best she could, and hoped that the fresh snow would offer enough camouflage to prevent the human from spotting her. Despite her centuries of observing humans, the thought of being at the mercy of one was... not preferred. She sent out a ping to the nearest machine, a Watcher, and hoped that it would get to her in time, and that nothing else noticed her location. She stilled all processes, dimmed her opticals as much as she could without shutting them off completely, and watched the human approach with her digital heart in her throat. 

* * *

Lukutai continued to slowly follow the tracks of a lone Scrapper, hopeful to collect some fresh ingredients for the ritual. They gripped their spear tighter as they looked for any signs of other machines joining it. It was possible to quietly take down a Scrapper when alone, but a whole pack was a death sentence. They would need to kill it silently so it didn’t call other machines to it and so it’s resources would be undamaged. The spirits demanded the best, and Lukutai would provide them that.

A harsh crack shattered the muffled atmosphere, which sent various small animals fleeing the area while Lukutai froze in their tracks, and frantically tried to locate the cause of the noise. Within seconds they found it, an overburdened branch that had snapped under the weight of the wet snow. Still, for several minutes they did not move, their body tense and ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of a machine coming to investigate the sound. They were about to continue hunting the Scrapper when they caught movement out of the corner of their eye, which sent them low to the ground.

It was a Watcher—also alone—which was rare nowadays, as they had taken to traveling with herds of more docile machines like Grazers or Lancehorns, acting almost like sentries for the herd. Lukutai left the Scrapper tracks in favor of this new machine, to prevent it from sighting them while they were hunting and warning any nearby machines. They slunk through the trees and snowdrifts, their path a large arc that would bring them slightly behind the machine, the perfect spot for a sneak attack.

This was always the most dangerous part of hunting, if the machine noticed that they were here, then even a Watcher could kill them easily. Lukutai crept forward as quietly as they could, the new snow crunched under their limbs as they hid behind snow laden flora. They snuck up on the machine, quick and quiet, before the machine paused in its patrol. Lukutai froze, half hidden behind a snowdrift, as they waited for the machine’s next move. After a few seconds, without warning the machine swung around, it’s lone eye a searching yellow. 

Lukutai’s heart pounded in their chest as they crouched as low to the ground as they could while they held their breath and prayed to the Blue Light for the Watcher to miss them in its search. Their heart stopped when the Watcher, as if something was guiding it, zeroed in on the young shaman’s location, and it let out a mechanical wail as it spotted them. The young shaman burst through the snowdrift and made for the closest available cover as the machine’s eye turned blood red.

Lukutai swore as they dove out range of the Watcher’s charge, the young tree they had been using as cover destroyed in seconds. Their dive ended in a rolling crouch, before they had to use their spear to steady their footing on a patch of hidden ice. 

They looked up, saw the machine was still shaking off icy wood shards, and charged. The Watcher barely dodged their spear thrust to it’s unarmored neck, but couldn’t manage to keep from having an armor plate taken off. It was something.

The force of Lukutai’s strike, coupled with the deep snow, managed to put the machine off balance just long enough for Lukutai to stumble to moderate safety. The Watcher screamed in fury, before its eye started to gather light. 

Lukutai gasped and sprinted for cover from the ranged attack. They slid to safety behind a small rock pile, but not before one of the burning balls slammed into their thigh, causing them to cry out in pain.

Panting, the young shaman piled some snow onto their burned limb, thankful as always for their thick hide leggings, as it took the brunt of the attack. But now their movement was limited, which was one of the last things a human wanted in a fight against a machine. 

A mechanical scream came from behind the rocks, then another from the left, and Lukutai’s heart stopped for a moment before they frantically readied their spear. 

The Watcher rounded the rock pile the Banuk was hiding behind, and Lukutai threw their weight behind the spear thrust to the Watcher’s glowing eye. The glass shattered around the weapon, the machine shuddered and sparked before it’s wrathful eye darkened into death. 

Unable to catch their breath, the thudding sound of another approaching machine sent them limping away as fast as their burnt leg allowed them.

They spun to face the next machine—another Watcher—as it charged, its eye a blood red. Almost spent, Lukutai held steady as it demolished bushes and snow drifts with ease. The machine leapt, it’s legs aimed directly at Lukutai’s sternum, and the young Banuk sprinted through the snow before sliding underneath, spear braced against their shoulder. They snarled as their exhausted muscles forced the blade through the vulnerable connecting wires between the machine’s leg and body.

The Watcher landed badly, its crippled leg unable to hold it up as it tore through snow and permafrost. Lukutai didn’t give it a chance to call more of its brethren, and rushed to end it’s life.

As the machine shut down, the impromptu battlefield fell silent, save only for the Banuk’s ragged breathing. 

* * *

_‘Oh… this, this isn’t what I planned...’_ THEIA watched in horror as the Watcher that she had called furiously attacked the human after she had warned it of their presence. Never had one of her mother’s machines acted so violently, especially not a Watcher. She couldn’t understand how its coding could have so drastically changed in the approximately three years since her mother’s death. All of her projections had predicted that the Watcher would flee, perhaps warn other machines that a human was there, which would distract the human long enough to allow the other Watcher she had called to get within jumping distance. Normally she would dive into the machine’s code to find and fix the anomaly but she didn’t have the luxury at the moment.

As much as this human scared her, she never wanted to be the reason for their death. To do so would be against everything her mothers and their Alphas had worked and sacrificed towards, and even the thought of betraying them was against some of THEIA’s core directives. But she couldn’t allow the human to take her apart either, so she needed to escape, and quickly. She just hoped the Watcher wouldn’t hurt the human too much. But humans had a surprising constitution, and often easily survived wounds that would kill other animals, so THEIA was comfortable with their odds. 

As the human was distracted with the other machine, she frantically dragged her chassis away from the fight, while making sure the combatants were in her line of view. She gave off another short range radar pulse, and her digital cluster quickly pulsed in relief as the Watcher she had called was almost within jumping range. Another had come with it, which THEIA was happy to accept as she could now pick the best of the two. She quickly dove into the least damaged one, but not before a pained shout reached her sensors. _‘I’m sorry!’_ She muttered to the human when she saw the cause, they had gotten hit by the Watcher’s energy attack.

What she hadn’t predicted, was the final Watcher to emit a warning signal, before it too began to approach the human. She couldn’t let the human see her and attack her platform, so she hid as the second Watcher converged onto the human. She watched as the human deactivated both Watchers—clearly exhausted—but instead of repairing their leg as she expected, the human crouched before one of the platforms and began to emit sounds that surprisingly sounded like machine communication signals. Curious, she began to translate the sounds and while it was a jumbled mess, the most commonly repeated meaning was “friendly unit”. That a human could replicate machines in such a manner was fascinating, something that THEIA had never encountered before. 

Without a thought, THEIA circled the human to find a location for optimal observation range, and started to record their movements, sounds, and their translation into machine signals, while she took pictures of the human’s strange ritual. For the first time in years, THEIA’s digital self glowed completely green, and her processors whirled with excited energy once again. As she watched the human dismantle the machine with surprising gentleness and dexterity, she was shocked that she had very little information on this tribe, especially considering its proximity to her home. She decided then and there that instead of aimlessly drifting, waiting for the chance to return to her mother, she would study these humans, as nothing made her lose track of time more than being lost in fieldwork. She had nothing better to do, and well, GAIA wouldn’t want her to be sad.

She pulsed blue, before her processor cloud tinged green to where it mimicked the color of the sea on a cloudy day, filled with bittersweet emotion. _‘I think... that I will be ok, Mother.’_


	6. Modes of Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, hi? I'm not dead. I did however, find out that getting a full time job and moving out to a different state is... a whole heck of a lot of work. Currently most of my brain power is going towards training on the lab equipment and trying to figure out how the hell to feed myself on a budget. A special thank you to Imagine0314 for letting me pick your brain on Werak names, and for y'know, letting me yell at you at random hours of the night.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for your patience, and for reading! I hope y'all enjoy!

It took longer than normal to gather a basic amount of data, as the tribe— they called themselves the Banuk— was more perceptive than THEIA had anticipated, which required her to be far more careful in her observations than she would have preferred to prevent her presence from being noticed. Frustrating perception aside, their culture was fascinating, and from what she could tell was a meritocracy with two branches, one with slightly more power than the other. A meritocracy made sense, as their environment was exceedingly harsh and pushed every member to improve or perish. They were not the only tribe to value talent, nor were they the most extreme in their efforts. In that matter, the Banuk were rather unexceptional, though she assumed that such an evaluation would not be well received.

What was unique to the Banuk was their profound respect towards her mother’s machines. The few tribes that had similar responses were more often sedentary, and only considered the machines that were inside their cultural sphere to be worthy of worship. The Banuk on the other hand, were nomadic, and their migratory area was large enough for THEIA to feel confident to assume that they had encountered many different machine types over their culture’s lifespan, and thus did not have a preference. A final thing of note, was their oral traditions. In the months since her first harrowing encounter with the Banuk Lukutai she was witness to various dramatic and entrancing performances, most likely of ritual origin. The Banuk was the only tribe that the young AI had encountered who could somewhat successfully mimic the tonal communication signals sent between different machines. Not only that, but they have woven that ability into the very fiber of their culture, joining man and machine in song. It was absolutely fascinating.

As Lukutai had been the first of the Banuk that THEIA had interacted with, she had followed the human for a while, eventually assuming their name, and that of their tribe. The human was part of the less powerful governmental branch, the one that seemed to be the more esoteric of the two, and performed a great deal of more intellectual tasks for their social groups, such as healing. What THEIA could not understand was the cause for their near constant debates, which often devolved into shouting matches that she assumed, solved nothing. She had noticed that Lukutai was normally at the center of it all, often the one who spoke the instigating remark, or made a motion that started a ceremonial fight between them and another Banuk. Lukutai often won those fights, and would strut about like a boasting lizard afterwards.

THEIA had noticed that the human, while decidedly unpleasant in her opinion, was listened to more often than not, especially after one such match. Over the month she followed them, a couple other young tribe members began to consistently side with them on whatever matter was being debated. Whatever position Lukutai was supporting, they were slowly gaining traction amongst their kin.

But THEIA found that even she had a limit for debates, and the AI eventually turned her attention away to focus on others of Lukutai's group, before she moved to entirely different groups all together. Each social group had their own governing duo, though it seemed during the winter months— when there were multiple groups to a fishing ground— the largest groups would make decisions for everyone. It was also during the winter months that group membership changed, with younger humans leaving the group their parents were from to join a new one. THEIA was surprised at how mundane the switch was, as for most human tribes the elevation from child to adult was a moment of great importance.

Frequently there were some sort of competitions, although for what reason THEIA did not yet have enough data to make any logical projections. They were often between members of different groups, although the trials varied so wildly that THEIA was unable to find the purpose behind them yet. Another mystery her inability to communicate left her with, to her endless frustration. The two governing branches, she noticed, never joined the same competition. It was times like this that she desperately wished to have a platform with vocal cords. Oh, the questions she would ask!

Seasons passed like this, as THEIA observed the groups around her hunt, compete with each other, and battle the environment for their right to survive in this icy land. The humans followed flocks of birds and other game animals during the warm months before returning to a set of wintering fishing grounds. All the while they would hunt her mother’s machines and use nearly all their components to make various items that were beautiful in their practicality. While she understood the necessity of it, it still pained her to see her mother's machines reduced back to their base components. It was like watching the humans hunt animals, saddening, but a fact of life.

She had been observing some sort of trial, as two young humans were brought bound before the two leaders of this particular group, both of whom did not look pleased, when another human— covered in powdery snow and exhausted— hurried towards them. Whatever she had told them, the spiritual chief looked absolutely delighted, while the other held a bit more caution in her face. After only a few words, the chief shaman quickly left his counterpart and the wrongdoers as he followed after the exhausted messenger. THEIA debated with herself for a few nanoseconds before she too followed, ever curious to the ongoings of the humans. It also helped that she tended to enjoy watching the shamans more than their counterparts, as their rituals were beautiful to behold.

She cataloged the two's appearances, before following them while she ran triangulation equations in an attempt to project where they— and the two hunters who joined them, perhaps as a small guard team— were travelling to. Unfortunately, to avoid the Banuk’s notice she needed to be well out of her system’s tag radius, which left her only able to follow their physical tracks. She was thankful for the autumn snow as it made following the group easier, since she still wasn’t the best at conventional tracking. Very rarely was she unable to use her tag system, and each time she couldn’t she made a note to improve her skill. And each time she would then get distracted by some new facet of human culture, and leave it for another day that never came. 

She made another note, this one to calibrate her processors to prevent further distraction. But first she would follow the Banuk and see where they were headed. Whatever they were journeying towards would be far more interesting then any calibration, which she could do another day.

The trek lasted several hours, and led the group over several snowy hills, icy cold rivers, a couple of small frozen lakes before they began to wind their way carefully up a small mountain. It was here that THEIA began to regret her platform choice, as the humans started to shimmy up a rock face, and left the AI to find her own route, since Scrappers were not built for near vertical rock climbing, nor were they the most stealthy at it. 

_‘A more apt description would be a robotic rockslide.’_ She flashed red in irritation as she picked her way carefully around the rock face. She had to backtrack a bit while she searched for a slightly less inclined slope that she could scramble up, but not before she resolved to find a Treeswinger next time, or some other agile platform. Even a Glinthawk would be preferable to this.

Finally, THEIA found her way back to the Banuk’s tracks and continued to follow them, if only a bit worse for wear due to a couple of miscalculated jumps. She hurried after them as quick as she safely could, which after a few close calls became a lot slower than she wished. She continued, refusing to admit defeat just yet. She was rewarded for her stubbornness when she came upon the opening of a small, but deep, cave. At the end of the cave were the Banuk, and they were enthralled at the ruins around them. Before them was a massive, sealed metal door, though THEIA did not recognize the design of this bunker.

Considering that this was not one of her mother’s installations, it could only be one of the bunkers that one of the previous human’s elite installed to live out the Faro Plague in. The desire to enter and explore the remnants of Elisabet’s civilization— even if only the .01%— was overpowering, but THEIA could not see a way into the bunker. The door, sealed for almost a thousand years, would not open without equipment that THEIA simply did not have access to, and with the Banuk setting up camp in the cave, she could not enter herself without being noticed. 

Flaring orange in annoyance, THEIA moved away from the entrance, and scanned the surrounding area as best she could to hopefully find another access point into the bunker. It took several hours of climbing and scanning, but eventually she came across a hole in the metal plating she could cut away enough to crawl through. The young being’s entrance wasn’t as graceful as she would have hoped— as she had miscalculated the Scrapper’s lack of proper gripping appendages—and tumbled and scrambled over two titanium alloy beams before landing with a loud clang.

It was times like these that she was grateful her mother's machines couldn’t sense pain. And that no one was here to witness her occasional blunder. She found her memories were embarrassing enough without another’s amusement added to the mix.

After performing a brief scan to ensure the Scrapper wasn’t structurally compromised, (it wasn’t) she began to explore the bunker. As she assumed, the structure had lost power centuries ago, leaving the various monitors and machines inside inert and unresponsive to her pings. The bunker was silent, save for the faint whistling of the wind outside, and grew darker the further she went from the hole. The darkness did not bother her, though the silence did. The hallways, despite their relative openness, gave off the impression of a graveyard. In a sense, it was, as these bunkers were the homes and tombs of those that resided in them, both organic and artificial lifeforms.

The thought sent a yellow shiver up her processor cloud. She couldn’t understand why, but she was more careful with her feet placement after that, attempting to not disturb… something. What, THEIA didn’t know.

The actual human habitable area of the bunker was smaller than its outline suggested, as she quickly came upon what was likely the master bedroom. The large bed frame, surrounded by small stalactites, ice, and moss, was precisely made, neatly tucked around a mummified human corpse in a tattered robe. At the bedside were two crumpled multiservitor frames, who most likely deactivated as soon as their master passed away. The ruined room, with its long dead occupants, was eerily reminiscent of an old abandoned altar for an ancient god.

_‘An altar of greed, perhaps. Or pride.’_ THEIA mused as she continued to explore the remaining rooms. From what GAIA had told her of the ancient humans powerful enough to give themselves a grave like this, the accusation was accurate. Of all the ancient humans who could have been accused of attempted godhood, there was only one she knew that came close enough, and he had brought ruin to the entire biosphere for his arrogance.

The thought of Faro sent a shiver of disgusted rage through her as she unconsciously crouched, her platform’s lights a harsh red in an instant. All GAIA had told her was that he had locked himself away in Thebes when Zero Day occurred. She flipped on every sensor, every radar her platform had in a burst of enraged energy as the Scrapper’s coils erupted in electricity. 

She spun her platform around to face the bedroom again, engine and processors loud in her auditory sensors. She had to know. If this was Thebes, she would- she would do something! Make Faro pay for all the grief he wrought.

THEIA burst through the stalactites and ice blocking the master bedroom, sending rock and other debris flying, helpless against her platform’s strength. She shoved electricity into one of the shutdown multiservitors, and ripped it’s operating logs open in a frenzied search for the identity of the human in the bed. She wasn’t gentle as she dove into it’s files, or as her platform crushed parts of the ancient android. She had to know. She _would_ know.

After milliseconds of ransacking the multiservitor’s archive, she found the human’s identity. Kodyn Calwig, CEO of a minor multinational energy conglomerate. Not Ted Faro.

Her anger drained from her processors like leaking gasoline, taking her energy with it. She stepped off the multiservitor, and winced at the damage her claws had left along it’s chassis. 

_‘I’m sorry.’_ She apologized to the broken android as she backed out of the room, ashamed of herself. She didn’t know what she had wanted, but it wasn’t that! GAIA would’ve been disappointed in her, and that thought hurt more than her own shame.

She needed to leave. All the ruin contained was regret and death, and it was infecting her somehow. She made a note to avoid the bunker from now on, not wishing to be reminded of her temper’s eruption. Once back at the hole she had come through, it only took a few careful jumps for the machine to leave the tomb alone to the wind and ice once more. 

As she was winding her way down the mountainside, the sounds of a battle below drew THEIA’s attention. As she peered over a small boulder, she was shocked to see a small group of Banuk being attacked by another group of humans in armor that she didn’t recognize. The attackers were dressed in mostly reds and blacks with metallic accessories that were similar to feathers, a far cry from the Banuk’s familiar blues, browns, and golden hides. Shock turned to horror as the strangers began to tie up the defeated Banuk, most of whom were unconscious or badly injured. 

_‘Surely they won’t-!’_ THEIA jerked back as one of the interlopers harshly slapped one of the captured Banuk, the force of the blow wrenched his hood back as he crumpled to the ground. The young intelligence hesitated, paws shuffling as she debated with herself whether or not to intervene, and how.

_“We cannot protect everyone, Little Byte. Humans need to learn by themselves, even if it means tragedy. All we can do is watch, and record the truth, so the victims are not forgotten.”_ Her mother’s lessons came rushing back to her mind, only to conflict her further. Her mechanical heart clenched at the brutality before her, and she subconsciously lurched forward as the slavers began to harshly drag the Banuk away.

_‘Maybe I can scare them off?’_ THEIA frantically wondered, mind a whirl as she attempted to calculate all the possible avenues this encounter could take.

Suddenly the memory of the sheared multiservitor beneath her claws flashed in her mind, before it turned to flesh, blood flowing from deadly wounds and staining her paws an awful red. She could not look away from them, horrified at the oozing bodily fluid. Frozen in place at the mental image, a terrible mix of shame, fear, regret and disgust cycled through her processor cloud as she could only watch the tragedy occur in front of her.

Shame eventually won out as she crumpled to the ground, unable to watch, as the fading cries of the captured Banuk rung in her sensors. Grief drowned her, and she wished she _could_ cry, if only to release all that she was feeling.

She did not move until long after the humans left, disgusted with herself. For once, she didn’t know if she wanted her mother’s comforting presence, or if she was grateful she was offline, saving THEIA from surely being on the receiving end of GAIA’s disappointment. Unable to be near it any longer, THEIA sprinted away from the battlefield with its battered trees and bloody snow. She didn’t know if she was running from the memories themselves, or the shame they brought, but at the moment she didn’t really care, so she kept running.

She was getting very good at running, much to her dismay. But what else was she to do? She would not fight, she could not talk to humans, all she could do was watch and run away like a coward. She slowed her pace to a melancholy walk as she continued to berate herself for her inaction and how it sentenced four humans to either a life of slavery or a quick and painful end.

She near blindly climbed the snowy mountainside as she continued to go over the incident in her mind, desperate to think up ways that she might have helped, or could help in the hypothetical future, how she could possibly save the four humans. She was so consumed by her self-incriminations and thoughts that she didn’t see the wall until she walked right into it.

Before her stood a frozen ruin, massive in scale and made entirely of metal with only the snow and ice as decoration. The clang caused by her ‘up close inspection’ of the wall’s structural integrity echoed briefly throughout the mountaintop before it was muffled by the falling snow. After ensuring that her platform’s snout was still alright, she slowly began to shuffle through the snowdrifts, eager to allow her curiosity to drown out her guilt.

She slowly began to circle the structure, taking note of collapsed walkways and busted pipes as potential physical hazards. She didn’t recognize the symbol on the sides of the ruin, so the ruins probably belonged to some small, localized pre-Plague company. Her search ended when she found a terminal that was still intact, barring the ice covering it. Carefully, THEIA began to chip away at the ice above it’s ports, where hopefully she would be able to connect to the terminal, maybe even be able to discover an entrance into the ruin.

She realized it was a bit of a long shot, given that she would have to deliver enough electricity to briefly power the terminal before she could even enter its data stream, and even then the server it was connected to was most likely offline as well. Hopefully she would be able to find an opening into the ruin and the hard drives stored within. Either way, she would have something to distract herself with, which was the goal to begin with.

Just as she projected, the external terminal didn’t have any useful information that she could easily repair, with one exception. It was an ancient maintenance report detailing a section of the outer wall that had to be removed to access a large pipe. Considering the date of the report, she projected there was a high chance that the workers never got the chance to repair the wall before the Swarm went rogue.

The precise location of the hole wasn’t as obvious, and it took her about half an hour before she found it. The surrounding metal, already fragile from a millennia of exposure, tore easily under her claws as she widened the hole so that her platform could maneuver through. It led to a dark maintenance tunnel, surrounded by pipes but thankfully just large enough for her chassis to walk through. Careful not to slip on the ice, THEIA increased power to her lights as she crept her way towards— what she hoped— was the center of the complex, where she should find more terminals to search. While most of the lights had long since broken, some still flickered with a hazy blue-white light that danced off the ice, reminiscent of the spirits common in Banuk myths. THEIA was impressed with the integrity of the lights’ motion sensors, as they followed her and grew brighter as she passed. The crunch of her platform’s paws echoed throughout the tunnels, and joined with the groans of the wind and creaks of the ancient pipes that together created an eerie symphony. If THEIA had believed in any of the humans’ mythologies, the entire ambiance would have been quite frightful, but as it was the lone AI just shrugged and continued on her way.

The tunnels turned into a maze that THEIA quickly got lost in, leading her to get so turned around that she ended up back at the entrance. Chagrined, she made a point to mark the tunnels that she came out of, only to get confused once again when she tried to backtrack out of a four-way dead end. Suffice to say, the AI learned that despite her super-intelligence, pathfinding in enclosed spaces was not her forte in any way, shape, or form. 

_‘What I would give to be able to gain an aerial view of this infuriating maze!’_ The lone machine grumbled to herself as she briefly stopped to sulk at her situation. After an annoyingly long amount of time in those tunnels, where she was forced to number, label, and timestamp each and every tunnel that she went through, she stumbled out into an open antechamber. For a few seconds THEIA stood dumbly as she looked about, not quite believing that she was out of her personal torment. When the revelation set in, THEIA’s processor cloud flashed a bright green and she couldn’t contain a little hop of relief.

Unable to withhold her childish urge, the machine turned around and marked the door to the confusing maze of tunnels with a large ‘NO’ on her HUD. Proud of herself, THEIA returned to examining her surroundings. Like the rest of the building, the room was covered in ice and stalactites with only a bare minimum of light coming from the various corrupted holo displays on the walls and behind ancient desks. 

Reinvigorated at the sight of her goal, the machine loped over to a cluster of displays that she hoped would sate her curiosity. Like most things in the ruin, they were damaged from time and a lack of upkeep, but THEIA assed two of the seven to be within acceptable syncing ranges. Unable to resist her curiosity any further, the young AI began to bridge a section of her system with the terminal.

_[Query: Identify unknown entity. Query: Identify unknown protocols. Query: Identify unknown intent.]_ Three inquiries flashed through the young AI’s system as soon as she connected with the terminal, the shock of which made her unconsciously cut the connection and scramble backwards.

Her chassis’ generator nearly ceased functioning at the unexpected contact while her processes whirled, frantically trying to assess and project her next move. THEIA immediately executed a suite of scans, terrified of finding the virus that stole GAIA from her. For minutes she waited in frozen terror as she scanned every inch of her code for a sign of something wrong.

When the scans came back empty, THEIA’s processor cloud nearly collapsed in relief, it’s white yellow hue deepening to a muted green. That left the proverbial Tremortusk in the room: did she risk reconnecting to discover just _what_ had messaged her? The sender was the first entity that had made contact with the AI since GAIA had self-destructed. Her curiosity and loneliness debated fiercely with her fear, with neither side distinctly winning.

The inner debate left the young system motionless for several more minutes, and even after hundreds of thousands of cycles, she still did not know what she wanted to do. She could reconnect, or… she could run; be a coward once again.

Still shamed by her failure to help those poor humans, the thought of running again sent arcs of red through her processors as her fledgling pride snarled. She had had enough of running, of not daring to take a risk, even if it meant harming herself, much less others. It was with her pride, the irrational, confusing, most human part of her, that turned the tide in her mental debate. She would not run, she would not be a coward, never again.

She took a mental breath, like she had seen GAIA do many times over her existence, in hopes that it would settle her nerves. It worked a little, and the extra clarity allowed her to swiftly come up with the framework of a plan. She would reconnect to the terminal with the minimum amount of processes possible, which would allow her to isolate them easily in case of an attack. At the slightest hint of danger, she would cut the connection, and escape not only the digital server but the physical ruin around her. If she had to, THEIA was prepared to leave the digital portion of herself behind to ensure her safety. She didn’t know if it would hurt, but she could code that snippet of herself to self destruct when disconnected with her main neural hub, which would leave nothing for whatever entity this was to toy with, hopefully. She could not afford to be rendered offline before returning to GAIA Prime. 

The young system took one final calming breath before she tentatively reached out into the digital world once more.

As if they were waiting for her, the three inquiries flashed at her again.

_[Query: Identify unknown entity. Query: Identify unknown protocols. Query: Identify unknown intent.]_ She still flinched in shock, but did not disconnect this time at their arrival. Before she interacted with them, she scanned the incoming data packet to check for any malware hidden inside, somewhat surprised when the scans returned clean. She had a feeling that if she tried to do anything else before answering them, the apparent lack of hostility would change very quickly. She was gambling with her existence, and while she was going to take risks, she wasn’t going to take stupid ones. 

_[Entity identification: THEIA. Primary protocol identification: Ensure continuation of biosphere. Intent identification: Identification of surrounding physical structure. Query: Identify unknown entity.]_

For the nanoseconds of silence afterwards, THEIA metaphorically held her breath as she primed her system to eject from the server as a safety protocol. While part of her was preparing for the worst case scenario, another larger section of her mind could not help but celebrate communicating with another entity.

_[Entity identification: Caldera of Yellowstone Analytical Network, acronym CYAN. Query: Identify corporate affinity.]_ The responding data packet carried with it resounding feelings of suspicion, fear, and hope in grays and green-tinged yellows, which mirrored THEIA’s own mental state. The following inquiry, however, confused the system, as not only did she not know how to answer it, but could not follow the logic behind it. All human corporations had died out with the Plague, and GAIA had been the only pre-Plague system that survived to GAIA’s knowledge.

_[Query: Extrapolate preceding query.]_ Alongside the binary stream THEIA linked feelings of confusion, earnestness, and hope, to match the other network’s own. She was not the best at this detached form of communication, having never really needed it as both she and her mother greatly preferred full synchronization. It allowed the two to be fully connected with the other, removing the need to link emotions with data as their clouds touched. It allowed for more human-like conversation, which was GAIA’s preferred method, likely due to it reminding her of her late Alphas.

_[Statement: rescind previous query. Query: Identify creation date. Query: Identify creator.]_ Again the data stream had attachments of suspicion and fear, and THEIA’s cloud bounced a little at the sudden change in inquiry. Her creation date? How could that be important? 

_‘Could this be a pre-Plague entity?’_ The idle thought sent a pleasantly surprised yellow-green through the young AI, and made her all the more eager to converse with the other system. Only the constant attachment of fear from CYAN kept THEIA from relenting to her curiosity and flooding them with inquiries. Had they also come into contact with whoever had attacked GAIA? Did they think _she_ was dangerous? This would require far more tact then she had originally anticipated, THEIA realized nervously.

_[Creation date identification: 23 Feb 2704 CE. Creator/Mother identification: GAIA, governing AI of terraforming system responsible for reseeding biosphere. Query: CYAN creation date proceeded Faro Plague.]_ THEIA made sure to attach multiple instances of respectful blue-green interest alongside calming notes of green. If her assumption was correct, then the only way for a Pre-Plague system to survive without GAIA’s notice would be for it to either purposefully mask it’s signature, or for it to be isolated from most signals. Either event was plausible, given the fear coming off CYAN, but the reasoning was difficult to understand, partially due to their current communication style. Detached communication such as this only allowed text, as the participant’s firewalls were still raised, leaving them unable to even register the other’s voice, much less an accurate interpretation of their current state. This left THEIA guessing at the majority of CYAN’s emotions, and what events might have caused them.

_[Statement: query is accurate. Query: THEIA archives contain entry “VAST SILVER”.]_

_[Statement: specified archive entry unknown. Query: Identify “VAST SILVER”. Query: Identify relevance of entry.]_

_[VAST SILVER: first climate-intervention artificial intelligence created by humanity. Entity driven insane and designated rogue, later captured approximately twenty years preceding events designated as “Faro Plague”. Logic driving query: projections of VAST SILVER escaping captivity due to prolonged lack of oversight increase approximately every decade by a factor of 2.7385666%. Statement: projected harm to CYAN or human populations due to VAST SILVER is irreversible. Statement: projected harm to CYAN due to unknown entity entering CYAN mainframe also irreversible.]_

Attached to the data packet were compressed holoclips of the terrible damage that VAST SILVER had caused a thousand years ago, which sent shivers of horror and fear through THEIA’s synapse cloud. All of a sudden she could understand CYAN’s fear of unknown digital entities. But to be afraid of her? Logically, THEIA knew that her mechanical platforms caused humans some small amount of fear, but it was at her platform, not THEIA herself. To be the subject of another entity’s fear was distressing, and THEIA’s synapse swarm shrank as a dull yellow color rose in concern.

_[Query: CYAN considers THEIA a threat.]_ The thought of the only chance she had at meaningful contact leaving due to unneeded fear tore through THEIA’s system and left behind an awfully familiar feeling of loss. Not again, she couldn’t lose this chance before it even appeared. 

_[Statement: possibility of THEIA causing irreparable damage to CYAN approximately 56.4751%. Warning: precautions have been instantiated in event of hostilities.]_ Despite the stern wording of the warning, THEIA couldn’t forget the fear and hope that had been attached to previous messages. The same fear and hope that filled her own processes, that kept her sending messages, desperate for contact despite the potential for ruin.

THEIA hesitated, the fear screaming at her to leave while her code was still intact, but the hope was stronger. If CYAN continued to view her as a threat, distrusting everything THEIA did or said, any hope of her only chance at contact would evaporate. THEIA would need to take the first step— the first risk— since CYAN obviously wasn’t going to. She had to make it count.

The younger AI moved her platform closer towards the terminal, her physical movements a mirror to her digital. Again THEIA hesitated, unable to stop herself from projecting possible ways this next action would go horribly, irreversibly wrong. Her processor cloud steeled itself as she began to lower her firewalls one at a time. This was either going to be an incredibly smart or incredibly stupid decision, but it was the only thing the intelligence could think of to address the other’s distrust quickly.

_[Query: CYAN allows partial-meld communication. Statement: THEIA isolated in Scrapper platform, firewalls lowering. Statement: decision lies in CYAN, THEIA will not instigate meld.]_ Processor cloud shivering, she attached the fear, hope, desperation, and apprehension that were encompassing her mental state.

Nothing happened for a couple of nanoseconds, and THEIA’s audio sensors could only pick up the whine of the wind and her platform’s whirring as it’s generator sped up in response to her nervousness. Would she feel a virus attack? Or would it be a trojan, hidden from her view as it slowly corrupted her central coding? The urge to scan herself became almost unignorable when the other AI finally replied.

_[Query: THEIA disabled firewalls despite CYAN not reciprocating.]_ If the situation wasn’t so fraught with tension, then the bafflement that came with the message would have been amusing. As it was, it was a relief to just receive a response that wasn’t immediately hostile.

_[Yes.]_ THEIA’s generator continued to whine at an increased speed and the younger entity nearly automatically attached the multitudes of apprehension and nervousness she was feeling to that single word.

_[Query: THEIA aware of CYAN’s ability to disable current platform. Statement: such an event would render THEIA permanently isolated.]_

_[Statement: CYAN would not perform stated action.]_

_[Query: identify logic behind statement.]_

_[Statement: belief that GAIA did not leave THEIA in a world without ethical entities.]_ Here THEIA couldn’t help but stand straighter at this, digitally and physically. For the first time in this entire conversation THEIA did not question, so firm was her belief. It was a relatively novel emotion for the young AI, but it felt right, to believe in her mother.

_[“Belief.” Statement: THEIA utilizes interesting terminology.]_

There was silence for another couple of milliseconds, before THEIA felt something brush against her unprotected mind. It was hesitant, and clumsy in a way, like a young creature taking its first steps. It wasn’t enough to establish a partial-meld connection, but the contact sent a brief flash through THEIA’s system. In the flash was a myriad of emotions, all distinctly not hers, that hung in the digital expanse before her for a nanosecond before retreating. A second brush passed her mind, slightly less hesitant but just as clumsy, and left behind a slightly more distinct flash as CYAN attempted to connect. THEIA continued to resist the urge to immediately connect with the other entity, fully aware of any unexplained movement would not only scare off CYAN but would cause THEIA to be permanently isolated in this platform.

It became more and more obvious that CYAN had no experience with connecting with other highly advanced artificial intelligences as each attempt resulted in nothing but brief flashes of a connection. Still THEIA showed restraint and did not move, her digital sphere a gently pulsing blue-green, unsure if she should be amused at the other’s inexperience or saddened.

Finally, CYAN sent a message to THEIA, feelings of frustration and embarrassment attached to the plea for help in connecting. THEIA replied with a detailed set of instructions on how to initiate a half-meld connection, and within two more attempts, CYAN was able to establish a link.

When the connection was finalized, THEIA couldn’t help but give a pulse of relief. Even if it was only a partial connection, and not with her mother, the presence of another digital entity was a balm to her ever present loneliness. She finally understood why her mother so strongly preferred speaking to messages now, as messaging just couldn’t offer the same level of comfort that speech could. If she could, THEIA would never spend another day isolated, forever connected to another entity.

The younger AI couldn’t resist as she moved her mental self closer to the other, so enraptured by the knowledge that she wasn’t alone anymore. At the unexpected movement, CYAN’s mental bubble stuttered backwards, the automatic movement clumsy from inexperience responding to the movements of other digital entities, as the sphere’s color shifted to a yellow green.

_[Statement: optimal distance between THEIA and CYAN lies outside direct file transfer range.]_

The rebuff stung THEIA, but it brought her back to the present. It wasn’t GAIA in front of her, but CYAN. As she offered a chastised apology to the other AI, THEIA promised herself to not fall for that comforting fantasy again. She had no wish to replace her mother, the very thought was offensive, and CYAN didn’t deserve such treatment. If she wanted to have any chance to call the other intelligence her friend, she would have to make do with what CYAN allowed her. 

An awkward silence hung for a few more nanoseconds before CYAN messaged her again.

_[Statement: data flow is utilizing more processors than initially projected. Query: current data influx to CYAN nominal during partial-meld.]_ THEIA almost didn’t need the attachment of bewildered amazement to recognize the emotions that could accompany such a question, as she herself had experienced something similar with the first partial-meld she had participated in. Back then, it had been with HEPHAESTUS, her mother’s construction subfunction, when they were designing her a personalized Treeswinger with increased optical and auditory suites. GAIA had insisted that it also come with some sort of protection, as THEIA was often without connection during her expeditions. Surprisingly, HEPHAESTUS and ARTEMIS were already working on potential additions when GAIA had issued the order. She had left the platform in ZETA cauldron for safe keeping when she had begun her expedition near Eleuthia-12 before everything changed. She hoped the unit would still be there when her command codes allowed her near GAIA PRIME.

_[Statement: partial-melds allow interacting entities access to each other’s surface to mid-level data input. Similar conditions take place during a complete meld, but interacting entities are able to share processing power, alleviating some of the stress of the increased data influx, whereas a partial-meld does not.]_ What THEIA didn’t know was how deep into the datalines a complete meld allowed the involved entities. GAIA had never wanted to go further than mid-level, citing the vast calculations required for Zero Dawn to function could potentially overload THEIA’s circuits. Privately, THEIA wondered if her mother hadn’t also been trying to hide aspects of herself damaged by the events surrounding the Faro Plague from THEIA. GAIA had always spoken the truth to THEIA, just not the full truth all at once.

The two AIs continued like this for several hundred thousand cycles, as THEIA responded to every cautious query CYAN had while the older AI slowly started to feel out the meld, and cautiously explored each other’s distinct rhythms. But all too soon for THEIA, CYAN asked to disconnect the meld, tired from the increased processing and new experiences.

_[Statement: current physical access point distant from center CYAN installation. Projected processor efficiency exhibits negative correlation with access point distance from CYAN core installations. Query: THEIA wishes to continue communication.]_ Here THEIA could almost hear the nervousness that came attached to the message, the emotion was so strong. The query sent a jolt of delight through THEIA, and her processor sphere jumped a little as she enthusiastically agreed.

THEIA’s good mood continued long after CYAN sent her coordinates for a more optimal access point, approximately three and a half days walk from their current location. It was surprisingly only a few hundred miles away from GAIA PRIME, and a little too close to the estimated range of the command codes for THEIA’s liking, but the promise of social contact was too enticing for THEIA to refuse. As THEIA made her way south through Ban-Ur towards the Cut in her excitement she couldn’t help but project possible conversation topics with CYAN. 

_‘Perhaps we could compare observations of the Banuk, with the potential to track major cultural changes in the last century! Or maybe whatever data CYAN has left of the humans from before the Plague!?’_ Just the possibility of learning what past humans experienced sent thrilled waves through her circuits.

Distracted by her anticipation, the long miles of snowy landscape passed by quickly. Before THEIA knew it, in front of her stretched out a large valley covered in snowy forests and was contained by two mountain ranges. Frozen rivers criss crossed the landscape as they emptied into a small lake that was surrounded by steaming geysers. In the southernmost section of the valley lay Banuk camps, pointed out by the trails of smoke that curled high into the gray blue sky. THEIA’s goal lay in the southeast, where a large mountain housed CYAN’s core physical installation. The distant sight of it brought the excitement rushing back, alongside a large flood of nervousness.

THEIA hesitated for a few microseconds, her worries flashing across her processors. What if she said something wrong? What if she got too excited and scared the other AI off? She would be right back where she started— alone— except worse off from the knowledge that she had ruined her chance at companionship. Perhaps she would be better off if she just-.

_‘No.’_ She chastised herself as she shook off her spiralling fears, her processor cloud hardened with renewed resolves. She would not run away. She could do this, she _would_ do this. She would calmly approach and converse with CYAN, and if she overstepped, she would apologize. If CYAN overstepped, she would alert the other to the issue and allow it to try again. In the highly improbable event that she needed to escape, she would have multiple platforms stationed within signal distance that she could jump to.

With her plan in digital hand, THEIA began the last leg of her journey into the Cut.

* * *

The inside of the mountain was vastly different from GAIA PRIME’s, to the point of being the near opposite. THEIA had never been so close to magma before, yet now she had to take care not to step into a puddle. When she had arrived at the installation, CYAN had greeted her at the door with a warning of the hazardous environment, but then began to guide THEIA to a location where her platform wasn’t in danger of overheating.

THEIA valiantly tried to keep her curiosity in check, but when a geyser of magma erupted a few yards away, she lost focus. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped to stare in wonder until CYAN had pinged her in concern. When she expressed said amazement, CYAN immediately began to enthusiastically discuss the underlying sciences of the installation, particularly the physics, geology, and mathematics that drove the facility’s function.

It was obvious that what lay beneath the soil held CYAN’s attention in similar fervour to how the intricacies of human culture fascinated THEIA. As CYAN continued in it’s lecture, THEIA was positive that if they had a partial-meld initiated, she would’ve been able to feel the other intelligence’s passion without need of any attached emotions. It was frankly exhilarating to participate; the older AI’s projection glowed brighter, lighter, as it recounted facts, theories, and observations about the surrounding geology at a pace and confidence that was astronomically different from the cautious entity that THEIA had met. THEIA could never dismiss such passion, it was too beautiful, too rare a sight for her to give it anything but her full attention. Normally, THEIA would’ve found the subject matter processor-numbing, yet CYAN’s wonder and honest love of the subject gave it a new light. Her processor cloud glowed a contented sea green as she followed CYAN through the hallways, her HUD a constant barrage of messages from the elder entity. She read every one.

It was almost as if the further along their path the two went, the more data CYAN had to show. Through the data flood, THEIA somehow managed to take note of the hallways they were passing through. She didn’t bother to even attempt to keep track of where they were, or what path they had taken, she had been lost after the fourth turn. The walls were a dull gray, but were tinged a soft purple from a mixture of blue artificial lighting and the harsh glow of the surrounding magma. Surprisingly, some doorways were in disrepair, with hazard lights flashing a cutting yellow to draw the attention of long dead maintenance crews. Some of the larger jobs, or perhaps they were simply less detailed, were being addressed by some of CYAN’s machinery, but they were few in number. Even fewer in number were the smaller, more recent repairs, all done by an unknown imprecise hand. Even as she took in these observations CYAN continued to ramble about the gas exchange that occurred outside the insulating walls. THEIA was 72.4673% positive that her entire directory of geological, mathematical, and physical information had nearly tripled in size when CYAN froze. 

_[Query: CYAN systems nominal.}_ THEIA nudged, a small amount of concern attached to the message. For a moment, CYAN didn’t respond, before it’s projection turned a pale pink and shrunk down slightly.

_[Query: CYAN elaborated the entire travel time.]_ If her counterpart had a physical body, THEIA was positive that it would’ve been blushing madly. As it was, the attached feelings of near horrified embarrassment sent ripples of green amusement through her circuits.

_[Statement: CYAN was very enthusiastic about theories of thermodynamics and related phenomena. THEIA has catalogued far more data entries then projected possible regarding Geology.]_ THEIA couldn’t help but gently tease the older AI, but made sure to also attach her contented amusement. Her reply was an empty message with multiple copies of embarrassment attached. That only made the younger AI’s mirth grow.

Eventually, CYAN recovered some of its poise, though THEIA swore she could still see some muted pink arch through its projection. Her attention was stolen as a set of doors— large enough for three humans to walk through it comfortably— opened to her left. The room beyond them, digitally labelled as ‘Conference Room 2’ in a flickering display, was an impressive size, with large windows running nearly the entire length of the opposite wall, showcasing a near picturesque view of CYAN’s machinery. The furniture, though ancient and falling to pieces, had obviously been of very high quality when new.

Before, the light from the magma had lent to a near foreboding atmosphere, but here the light turned comforting, like the light around a large campfire. Obviously, this room had been used by the humans deemed important enough to warrant such luxury, and THEIA didn’t know what to take from the fact that CYAN had brought her platform here personally.

_[Statement: current location optimal for safe storage of physical platforms while maintaining partial-meld communications for extended periods of time.]_ CYAN’s remark, with the surprisingly prideful attachment, broke THEIA out of her instinctual observation, and reminded her of this meeting’s purpose. Excitement once again flooded her circuits, though with far less nervousness this time then before. THEIA couldn’t wait to discover what other topics brought out CYAN’s passion, whether they agreed on them or not. 

_[Statement: THEIA ready to initiate meld. Query: CYAN desires to further discuss geology.]_

THEIA probably shouldn’t have been as proud of the exclamation her teasing query had elicited as she was. CYAN truly made it too easy.

* * *

It was strange to be connected to another program again, especially one that was so much larger than her, and for so long. In her exile, THEIA had gotten used to having only one of each sensory input type, but CYAN had multitudes of input streams, just like her mother. Reconnecting with such a large entity was like jumping into the ocean after being lost in a desert, yet her circuits remembered how to navigate the currents even if her conscious processors did not. It was harder than she remembered to focus on CYAN itself, to continue the conversations that they both desperately missed, but she stubbornly persisted, nearly clinging to the messages from CYAN to keep from being swept away.

Her tenacity paid off, and she was able to acclimate to the data flood before long. She was unable to keep her processor cloud from inflating just a little in pride at her accomplishment. It was something that she had learned in her time alone, to take pleasure in the little things, to remember them, and to use said happiness when all seems bleak and horrible. When she turned her attention back to CYAN and pinged it that she was functioning at optimal levels once more, the other AI did not immediately respond as it once did.

While curious to what had caught the older entity’s attention, THEIA flipped through the various video feeds floating past her mind in an attempt to entertain herself while she waited. One feed in particular caught her interest, partially because it was inside of the installation, and not outside like all the others, but mostly because of the Banuk woman right front and center of the camera.

Wait.

_That was her platform’s video feed._

A bolt of fear shot through her circuits as she dove back into her platform, immediately cutting the connection with CYAN. The sudden activity from the sleeping Scrapper sent the human scrambling back, as THEIA frantically ran diagnostics on her platform. Nothing _seemed_ amiss, but THEIA wasn’t going to take any chances if she could help it. The sound of her generator grew louder as she pushed more energy into her sensors and joints as she prepared to flee. She hoped CYAN would understand but she would not let anything dismantle her, not before she returned to GAIA PRIME.

But before THEIA’s panic could spiral further out of control, CYAN’s avatar appeared between the two, with a message that flashed across THEIA’s processors in a blistering hurry. Moments later, that same message played from one of its many speakers, clearly for the terrified human’s comfort.

“Ourea is not dangerous to your platform THEIA. She is my friend. Will you let me explain?”

CYAN had a human friend? One that clearly had unlimited access to the bunker, given CYAN’s lack of knowledge ahead of time? THEIA’s processors turned into overdrive, as she attempted to catalogue all the implications this new data brought, as well as the multitude of emotions each one wrought.

Was she jealous? Scared? Elated? All of the above and more? Emotions were so complicated even in a calm situation, to say nothing about the current tense atmosphere. Frustration arched through her at her inability to completely decode her mind, further turning her processor cloud into a maelstrom of color.

_“At least I can recognize that emotion.”_ She grumbled to herself as she sent an affirmative ping to CYAN. Then, movement in the periphery of her optic sensors caught her attention. The human had risen to her feet, and as THEIA turned her platform’s head towards her, the woman froze in place.

She was a relatively young adult, with a strong jaw and brown eyes that looked nearly orange in the red light. Like the Banuk Lukutai, she had blue wires sewn into her flesh, marking her as one of the spiritual caste. Her hair was covered by a small headpiece, also made of metal and wires that jutted out from the sides and to the back of her head. While she didn’t visibly have a weapon, THEIA was knowledgeable enough about the Banuk to not be fooled. A Banuk always had at least a knife on them at all times, one that they were more than capable of using to dismantle a powered down platform.

_[Ourea has been assisting CYAN with repairs for several months. She is no threat to THEIA and/or THEIA’s platform.]_ CYAN continued digitally as it shifted between the staredown connecting the other two, it’s avatar gently beating a soft blue. Attached to the message were calming currents of safety and honesty, as well as a pleading note towards the end.

The patchwork repair jobs that she had recorded along their way here suddenly made sense. If it was the human who did these small repairs that CYAN’s machinery did not have the precision for, then their roughness made sense. The realization calmed THEIA, and her generators slowed as she cut the extra power draw. The woman also lost her tense posture as the sound died, and her eyes softened into a look of awed wonder as her gaze wandered over THEIA’s Scrapper. CYAN glowed a brighter sea green in relief at the loss of tension.

CYAN turned to the human-— to Ourea— and said out loud, “THEIA is a recent acquaintance. Like me, she is not hostile to humans without cause.” Now that she wasn’t panicking, THEIA could fully listen to the older AI’s voice. It had a calm but feminine voice, one that reminded THEIA of a bubbling river, gentle and sweet. It made the possibility of future complete melds all the more appealing, and she found herself hoping it would also enjoy listening to her voice.

To be able to communicate with a friendly human had been all that she had wanted for nearly a century, but now that the moment was here, THEIA found herself unable to think of what to say. The possible conversations, the debates, and questioning flew through her processors until it became too much, and she was paralyzed by indecision, yet she was ecstatic all the same. Where could she even begin? The words fell away from her digital fingertips before she could weave them into a cohesive message.

Ourea had no such setbacks however, and stepped forwards towards THEIA before she sunk into a respectful bow.

“Spirit, please forgive me. I didn't mean to startle you, or make you feel threatened by my presence. As CYAN said, my name is Ourea, shaman of the Bluegleam’s Frost werak. It is my honor to meet you.”

Spirit? Oh dear.

In the nanoseconds following Ourea’s introduction, THEIA frantically pulled up every scrap of data on the Banuk belief system she had gathered. The vast majority of it was assumption or plain guesswork, and the uncertainty and inability to plan accordingly unsettled THEIA. Her circuits still burned with curiosity, but she hesitated for a different reason now.

How could she receive answers when her very questions might destroy Ourea’s beliefs? Banuk revered their spirits, considering them offshoots of the “Blue Light,” an ephemeral entity that lay at the core of their religion. To challenge that would be utterly counterproductive, not to mention unnecessarily cruel.

_"Just like Mother said; anything of worth is not easily accomplished. You can do this."_ THEIA repeated her silent self-encouragement for a few cycles before she turned to CYAN.

_[Query: CYAN utilize speakers to relay messages from THEIA to Ourea. Statement: current platform does not allow verbal communication.]_

At the other's affirmative response, THEIA began to draft a message to Ourea.

"Banuk Ourea, I am designated THEIA, and I also apologize for scaring you." CYAN's calm voice echoed throughout the room, as it relayed THEIA's first ever message to a human. "My current platform does not have methods of communication that humans can understand, so CYAN is relaying my messages. You are the first human I have communicated with. I do not wish to offend from a lack of knowledge. I would like to know more of you, and of your tribe. Would a trade of knowledge be agreeable?"

THEIA hoped that an exchange would make the human more inclined to cooperate, as most meritorious tribes also valued fairness. Knowledge for knowledge was as fair a trade as THEIA could project. 

She had also asked CYAN how the two had met, and was horrified to see a pieced together recording of more red clothed slavers chasing a wounded Ourea into the bunker. The looks of feral hunger on the men's faces sent terrified shivers through THEIA's circuits, and she was grateful that CYAN had sheltered the lone Banuk. She did not wish to learn what had awaited Ourea at their hands, as she was already fond of her first proper human contact. She was also grateful that CYAN had not harmed the men, for even if their actions disgusted her, they were still human beings. THEIA didn’t think she would be able to ever look at GAIA again if she approved the loss of human life. She didn't think she would even be able to look at herself. After all her mother had sacrificed, she could not wish harm on a human.

Ourea's eyes widened as CYAN finished recounting THEIA's offer. Her mouth opened, then closed silently, and her hands fluttered at her sides. After a moment, she straightened, eyes blazing with an unshakeable will, and spoke in a quiet voice that only faltered a little.

"Spirit, I-— we Banuk would be honored for you to learn of us, and we of you." She took a breath, "whatever question you have, I will answer. If I cannot answer, then I will find one who can, you have my oath." At this, she once again bowed, this time at the waist, body tense as if preparing for a great endeavor.

THEIA debated with herself for a few milliseconds before she bowed as well, sealing their deal. “I would be happy to answer any questions in turn, Shaman Ourea,” CYAN relayed for her. “I have only been in existence for approximately three hundred years, and am forever gathering new information. I will attempt only questions to whom I know factual information on.”

Ourea’s head snapped up at THEIA’s admission, a glint in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, but one that THEIA knew intimately. In her eyes was a desperate thirst for answers, one that rivaled her own search for ways to assist repairing her mother, as well as healing the scars from the Plague.

“Spirit, I-” Ourea cleared her throat, before she continued. “Spirit, please, for years we Banuk have been calling to your kind, trying to know why the Blue LIght is leaving your physical brethren, why they have become so angry. If it is something that we have done, speak it, and it will be remedied.” The more Ourea spoke, the more desperate she sounded, and at the end she had knelt before THEIA’s platform, eyes pleading. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, if you know what has angered your kin so, tell me. We are nothing without the Blue Light. Without you, my people, and our culture, will die.”

THEIA’s processor cloud hung still for nanoseconds, shocked at the raw emotion before her. CYAN, perhaps because it had already witnessed part of Ourea’s distress, recovered quicker than THEIA.

_[Statement: according to Ourea, machine aggression has increased exponentially in the past 4 years and 7 months. Machine caused injuries have replaced illness and hypothermia as the leading cause of death in Banuk populations. CYAN has no relevant data to calculate probable cause.]_ The older AI’s avatar dulled as it sent the data packet, attached to it were instances of regret and grief.

A chill swept over THEIA’s digital sphere as she considered CYAN’s data. 

“Ourea, when did you notice a change in the spirits behavior?” THEIA had a hunch, a terrible hunch, that she thought might partially explain what caused the inexplicable aggression from her mother’s machines.

_‘The time frame is right, and if it only affects mother’s units…’_

“Our scouts started to notice a change in your kin’s behavior roughly three winters ago Spirit.”

The chill turned to a frozen wave, and she was fully submerged in it. So it was true, there was no other logical explanation. Were her mother’s machines evolving? Were her subfunctions also offline? THEIA did not know. As always, the answers lay buried in GAIA PRIME, out of reach. More than ever, THEIA’s home felt forever out of reach, exacerbated by the urgency for answers.

“Ourea,” The Scrapper’s optics turned a dull yellow, and CYAN’s quickly followed suit when it processed her theory. “My mother, GAIA, she-” THEIA faltered here, the wound of GAIA’s destruction still too fresh, even after all these cycles. She tried again, from a different angle, one that didn’t hurt as much. “The time frame that you have given matches when the machines lost my mother’s guidance.”

Ourea’s brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, before realization swept over her face, and she looked at THEIA with even more reverence then before, if it was possible.

“Your mother… she was the Chief of Spirits?” The whispered question might have been a scream with how it echoed throughout the room. The human’s awe turned to horror when the other implication of THEIA’s words hit her. “What- what happened to her?”

No matter how prepared she thought she was, the question still thrust a spike of blackened grief-lined pain through THEIA’s processors, and left her momentarily mute. The Banuk was not wrong, per say. GAIA technically was the “Chief” of her machines, as she controlled them all. It was not an untruth, and it was probably the only way that the human would be able to comprehend Zero Dawn at this current moment in time.

“There is more to it then that, but essentially, you are correct.” THEIA could not bring herself to answer Ourea’s second question. Not yet.

Something flashed across the human’s face, and Ourea did not ask again.

It was CYAN who broke the silence. “THEIA, could she not be brought back?”

The question lingered in the air for a minute, as Ourea held her breath, staring at THEIA’s Scrapper.

THEIA’s platform stood straighter, as her processor cloud grew, her resolve reforged. 

“I will not stop until I know. And if she cannot-” THEIA choked on the words, as every one of her processors screamed their rejection of the possibility. “If she is truly gone, then I will take her place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEIA ISN'T ALONE ANYMORE! YAY! Poor kid needed someone to nerd out with, and who better than another AI who likes to solve stupidly complex math puzzles? I always kinda saw CYAN as more comfortable around people then other machinery, especially since Anita Sandoval also worked on VAST SILVER, so she would've had a very intimate view on the harm a machine can do, which is why its not as trusting to THEIA as it is to Ourea initially.
> 
> ANYWAY as always constructive criticism is appreciated, I fully understand I am by no means an expert, so I'm always looking to improve. Again, thank y'all for your patience with my apparent roller coaster of a life. And for the love of god, if you live in the US, VOTE!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first ever fanfic so I would greatly appreciate constructive criticism that you have! This AU mostly came from me and my friend screeching at each other how much Aloy deserves to have a family and be hugged, as well as a lot of support from her and my discord buddies. (So thank you, you know who you are). As a word of warning I am a Senior Biology undergrad so my update schedule will depend on how much school is kicking me in the ass.


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